


Sanctuary

by Arcaniel



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Religion Changes, Assassins & Hitmen, Cyberpunk, Intrigue, M/M, Murder Mystery, Romance, Science Fiction, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 70,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcaniel/pseuds/Arcaniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AD 2667: Chase Holloway, a young inquisitor of the Church of Light, is trusted with the precarious mission to thwart the assassination of an ultra-rich business man who has barricaded himself on his private space station. Among the suspects is also a mysterious young man to whom Chase feels himself drawn to... before matters really start to get bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue- Choosing a Path

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dearies,  
> I know, I have "The end of all stories" to finish, but this is a special project. I started this story in my mothertongue German, but only after over ten chapters already written I realized it just doesn't work out. So I decided to translate und refurbish the allready written parts and continue in english - and so far it seems to be working out. Truth be told, this story is so visual that it really should be a graphic novel, but I'm not good enough at drawing for that.  
> Constructive criticism would be highly appreciated!

~ Remarr Orphanage, 167th street, district 34, Eden City - AD 2645 ~

Chase yawned and stretched his little arms above his head to get the cramps out of them. He had been scrubbing the floors and polishing the pews at the chapel the whole day, and now he would have loved to curl up somewhere and just fall asleep. But it was still a few hours until evening, and he had to help setting the tables, listen to evening mass and then gather the smaller children and usher them into the dormitory. 

At the age of seven years, Chase was still one of the younger children at the orphanage that sheltered girls and boys until the age of thirteen, but the adults knew that they could rely on him. Chase was a very obedient, well-behaved child, and although his good behavior was rewarded most of the time, it also meant having more duties. 

The boy was just about to make his way over to the closet to put away the broom and the cleaning rags when he heard the bell at the front door. He knew that sound very well: it meant that someone had just put a baby into the thermal box. 

Chase looked around the hallway, but it seemed that no one but him had noticed the bell's ringing. Father Reighley, the director, was already profoundly deaf - a fact he didn't want to admit, and the other adults and older children were working at the kitchen. Quickly, Chase put away the cleaning tools into the closet and went to the front door the thermal box was standing next to. 

"I hope it's not a girl," he grumbled. 

He didn't have anything against girls in general, but they tended to look at him with big, helpless eyes all the time to get all kinds of favors. And Chase, helpful and chivalrous as he was, had to take on a quest to search for lost dolls or to fight gigantic spiders in the dormitory. 

The baby that looked at him from out of the thermal box already seemed to know the trick of making big eyes. It was very small and wrapped in tattered cloth, but otherwise very lively since it waved its tiny arms around.

Chase took it up with practiced ease and supported the little head with one hand. He had been carrying around at least one smaller child each day since he had been living in the orphanage, so he knew what he was doing. 

"Let's go look for Father Reighley," he said. "Since Jake and Ellen have been adopted last week, we have enough room for you."

The baby gave a gurgling sound, never taking its eyes off Chase's face. The boy couldn't help but smile. With a firm grip around the little bundle he marched down the hallway toward Father Reighley's office. After a knock so loud even the old man couldn't overhear, he was admitted.

"Lo and behold, a newcomer!" The gray-haired priest stooped down and took the baby from Chase. "Was there a note, maybe with a name on it?"

The boy shook his head. "No. But can I chose a name, Father?" he asked hopefully. Since he had been the one to find the infant, it seemed only fair.

"Why not, my son? Come, let's bring the little one to the infirmary for a check-up," Father Reighley replied, smiling. "You can assist Nurse Eliza." 

An hour later, the baby, cleaned up and freshly dressed, was lying once again in Chase's arms. The infant had turned out to be a boy, healthy and about two weeks old. Nurse Eliza, the orphanage's medic, knew of Chase's care for the little children and had let him tend to the baby while she was talking to Father Reighley. 

Meanwhile, the infant was one again fixating Chase. He had milky-blue eyes like all newborn, and Chase couldn't help but wonder which color they would take later on. Grey, like Nurse Eliza's, or brown like most of the childrens' here? Or would they stay blue? Chase's own eyes were mostly regarded as black as his hair, but in the right light, they revealed to be dark blue. He faintly remembered his own father having such eyes as well.

The boy had accepted the fact a long time ago that his father would never come back to get him. The man had brought him to the orphanage almost three years ago after Chase's mother had died. The boy had only vague memories of his time together with his parents, but they had lived outside of Eden City where the air was poisonous and made people sick. Chase remembered his mother's pale face and her constant coughing. One day, she had closed her eyes and had never awakened again. And his father... He had smiled at Chase when he had said goodbye, reminding the boy to be good. Chase had waited a long time, but his father never came back. 

Maybe he was already dead as well. Or maybe he had forgotten him. 

The boy bit his lip, trying to banish the bitter thoughts. Softly, he talked to the baby. "I'll take care of you. You're gonna find new parents really quick. And if not, I'll be your big brother. I promise."

Father Reighley and Nurse Eliza went over to him.

"Now, my son. Have you thought of a name?" the priest asked with a gentle smile.

Chase nodded enthusiastically. "You remember telling us at mass how the three saints founded the Church of Light? And one of them even brought a dead man back to life. I like his name very much."

Father Reighley nodded and petted Chase's dark mop of hair. "You have been listening very well. It's a good idea to name the child after one of our most revered founders. This will pave the way for a life full of devotion and piety."

The baby once again gave a sound and curled his mouth in a way that could become a smile one day.

Chase smiled back at him. "Hello there, Tyrean."

 

~°~

At the beginning of the 27th century, the conflicts between various religious groups existing in the United States of America escalated. For years, they had been fighting for dominance and hadn't shied away from street fights and attacks. When the Disciples of the Eighth Era detonated a D34-bomb in Los Angeles, the stronghold of their archenemies, the Silver Templars, an open war was declared in which there were no rules anymore. The government of the United Nations tried to intervene, but gave up eventually and declared the complete area of the American continent that had once been the United states (save for Alaska and the surrounding islands) to no man's land. They shielded the rest of the world from misrouted bombs and waited. 

The war that historiography would call the First Apocalypse raged for several years until all the fighting sects had annihilated each other. The continent was devastated, poisoned and contaminated with radiation. There was not a single city left standing, and the number of victims had long since reached a billion. But those who had survived the horror found a new hope: the last remaining religious sect that called themselves the Church of Light. This group had never resorted to violence, but had preached peacefully and protected their followers. The leaders of the Church promised the people peace, morality and order – their set of beliefs. 

And they kept their promise. In only a few years, on the ruins of the former Island Manhattan and the territory of Long Island a huge metropolis called Eden City was built. The Church invited every survivor to live there as long as they would follow the rules. Poisoned and radiated zones in the vicinity where cleaned, and industry and agriculture once again flourished. Each loyal follower of the Church was granted a decent home and good work.

The United Nations resumed political contact with the leaders of the Church although they weren't comfortable with the theocracy even if it was lead by seemingly sensible people. Trade relations were reestablished and embassies installed, but the newly erected Empire of Light didn't rejoin the United Nations. It continued to remain autonomous.

But like every system, the Church had its dark sides. Those who wouldn't convert to the Church would be banished to the still barely uninhabitable western regions or could try to get a visa to emigrate to the countries of the United Nations – which almost never succeeded. The strict order and absolute obedience towards the authorities, a morally faultless life and above all, no doubts on the righteousness and godliness of the rules lead to the development of an underworld full of drugs and brothels where the good citizens could let themselves go. The Church of course fought this decadence; to do so, they established the Inquisition Department, a mixture of intelligence, police and military to enforce their rules. The punishments were severe and deterrent, and out of ten arrested people, at least five were innocent. Big detention camps were built in the western regions, but no one ever returned from there. 

Nevertheless, the people of Eden City gladly accepted this since nobody wanted the anarchy back. Freedom of information existed although the Church saw to it that subversive or system-criticizing media were silenced quickly. They also made life in the territory of the United Nations look not overly attractive. Freedom of traveling existed as well, but those who didn't want to emigrate, stayed in Eden City. There was everything one could want anyway.

"A glorious future has begun" – this was the maxim of the Empire of Light. But nobody wanted to think about the price paid for this future – or if it was truly worth it.

 

~ Remarr Orphanage – AD 2651 – 6 years later ~

"Do you really have to go?"

With huge, disappointed green eyes Tyrean looked up at Chase. The older boy, clad in an old, but warm jacket, was standing at the front door of the orphanage, right next to the thermal box where he had found Tyrean years ago. Outside, an impatient young official of the Church of Light's educational center was waiting. 

Chase had already said his goodbye to Nurse Eliza, old Pater Reighley, and all the children, but it was different with Tyrean. They needed this last moment for them alone.

"You know I have to. Children older than thirteen years can't stay at the orphanage. And my grades are good, so I can start my education as a candidate for the Church officials. I can learn a lot and become a priest myself, like Father Reighley," Chase reminded Tyrean for what seemed like the hundredth time. He didn't know what else to say.

"But why can't I come with you?" Tyrean insisted. His pleading look became stubborn as he grid his teeth. Chase knew that he had to be the sensible one, as always, but it was getting harder by the minute. He already missed his "little brother", and he wasn't allowed to take a souvenir or even a picture to remember him. The young candidates weren't allowed to have any contact with the outside world, not even with their families, during their first years of training. It was believed that such things would just distract them from their rigid studies. 

Chase sighed. "You know that you can't. Come on, don't make this any harder for the both of us. We'll see each other again, you hear me? I'll contact you as soon as I'm allowed to. And in the meantime, try to behave and do what you are told at last – for my sake, will you? If you continue like this, Father Reighley will get a heart attack out of worry over your behavior."

The smaller boy's facial expression became even more stubborn. In contrast to Chase, he had never been an obedient child and had, as soon as he was able to talk, questioned everything. He had also started to fight with everyone in the orphanage. Of course Chase had stood up for him since he loved the little boy with all his heart and refused to give up hope that one day, it might get better. But this permanent defiance and aggressiveness only resulted in daily working and cleaning tasks as punishment – which in return ignited even more rebellion in Tyrean. 

Chase had tried and tried again to persuade his "little brother" that obedience and friendliness toward others were a much better way to get by, but it had been useless. The only time Tyrean had been the sweet and good child everyone wished him to be was when Chase was present. But that little angel immediately turned back into a demon as soon as another person tried to make him do something he didn't want. Tyrean was bearing the name of one of the Church's saints, but he wasn't one for sure. Although he had been brought up with the Church's beliefs, he refused with live by them. Even if Chase would have been able to take Tyrean with him, the Church would never accept such a little heretic as a candidate.

Tyrean stayed silent, then he just flung his arms around Chase. He was so small that the top of his head was barely at level with Chase's chest, but a lifetime of scrubbing floors had made the six-year-old rather strong – a fact which the other children frequently were reminded of rather painfully. 

Chase gently stroked the hopelessly tousled mop of hair which seemed to have another color every day, depending on the light and the amount of dirt in it.   
"I'll always love you," he promised softly. "And I won't forget you, Tyrean. Ever."

It took a while until the smaller boy let go of him. The big eyes were free of tears, but the fight that was going on behind them was clear as day.   
"Don't you dare forget me," he murmured and bit his lower lip.

Chase tried to smile at him encouragingly although he felt more like bursting into tears himself. "Did you ever see me break my word? Goodby, Tyrean."  
Then he turned to the door and left the orphanage. He forced himself not to look back, or else he would never be able to leave at all.  
I'll keep my word, he promised himself silently. We'll see each other again, Tyrean.


	2. Chapter 1 - The usual Suspects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Welcome, Father Holloway. I'm glad you're here," Saunders said. "But to be frank, I had expected someone a little..."
> 
> "A little older?" Chase guessed. "I've been serving the Church of Light my whole life, and I'm a fully-trained inquisitor with almost ten years of experience. I hope to prove myself to you accordingly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the real plot is beginning!
> 
> I can't give you a regular updating schedule yet, but when I've written enough to be ahead of things, I think I'll resort back to my typical Tuesday updates. The chapters are also insanely long for my standards.

**Chapter 1 – The usual suspects**

_~Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 5_ _th_ _AD 2667 – 16 years later ~_

Father Chase Holloway attentively took in his surroundings. He had just arrived via shuttle on _Sanctuary 24_ and couldn't help but to be impressed at the opulence that surrounded him. The contrast to the sterile terrestrial station he had started at was immense; instead of being plain, white, and bleak the entrance hall was kept in various shades of red and was decorated with real wood and marble – an incredible luxury. There were sparkling candelabra everywhere, and the dainty tables were overflowing with real flower arrangements. Even antique statues stood watch in the corners. 

All in all, Chase felt like he had just entered a king's palace from a millennium past and not a highly modern space station. Carl Saunders, CEO of Saunders Industries and one of the richest men in the world, had created an exclusive refuge for himself and only allowed a few selected guests in. It was the highest social honor of Eden City to be invited here. 

But Chase hadn't come here for fun. His task was to find out who was threatening Carl Saunders' life. 

The billionaire was a loyal follower of the Church of Light and had been very generous with his donations, so it was understood that the disciples helped him in return. The past few month, the man had been living in fear for his life after narrowly escaping several assassination attempts, and had now left earth for good to retreat to his space station. Even the territory of the United Nations hadn't seemed secure enough for him since he didn't have any faith in their security forces. 

Therefore, Saunders had asked for an inquisitor of the Church of Light to take over. Cardinal Quinn, Chase's superior, had decided to act and had asked Saunders to put the inquisitor on the guest list. Officially, he was only here as Saunders' confessor and to act as harmless and unobtrusive as possible until he found some clues as to who wanted to see Carl Saunders dead.

"Welcome on _Sanctuary 24_ ," a pleasant female voice interrupted Chase's line of thought. 

A young woman in a dark green, uniform-like suit smiled at him. She barely seemed to have passed her twentieth year and had a pretty face with wide, dark eyes. Her brown hair was tamed into a neat braid, and despite her youth, she had an aura of competence and professionalism around her. 

"Mr Saunders would like to speak to you, Father."

"Of course," Chase agreed. "Please show me the way."

The young woman led the way. They crossed the entrance hall and stepped into a lift that took a long way up until they arrived at the designated floor. The girl led the Father through a short hallway to a door that was guarded by two very intimidating combat droids. Chase lifted an eyebrow; droids like this hadn't been produced for years now since their replacement by combat suits and remote-controlled units. 

The young woman waited until the droids had scanned her and Chase, then she used the little retina scanner next to the door and finally entered a seemingly endless code into the number pad. The young inquisitor decided that no one would be able to remember that code even after watching her repeatedly.

The door was unlocked, and the droids stepped aside to let them pass.

"Come closer."

The Father had to look twice until he finally discovered the fragile figure sitting in a wheelchair behind an antique mahogany desk. According to official records, Carl Saunders was only eighty years old, but his gray, gaunt face looked like he had already seen a few centuries. Just his dark eyes were alert and watching Chase with mistrust.

"Welcome, Father Holloway. I'm glad you're here," Saunders said. "But to be frank, I had expected someone a little..."

"A little older?" Chase guessed. "I've been serving the Church of Light my whole life, and I'm a fully-trained inquisitor with almost ten years of experience. I hope to prove myself to you accordingly." 

"We'll see," Saunders allowed, not entirely convinced. "Kelly, please give the Father all the necessary information," he addressed the young woman. "Outside this room, no one knows why you're really here, Father, although the others will guess. None of my other guests are stupid – unfortunately."

"Of course. I'll start my investigation right away – with Miss Kelly, if that's alright." 

Saunders made a dismissive gesture. "Not necessary. That's Kelly Saunders, my granddaughter."

"And maybe also the next in line for inheriting?" Chase looked back and forth between the two. 

"No worries here, Father. Just like all the other relatives, I'll get a fixed share that's not worth mentioning. The majority of Saunders Industries' money will be manged by a trust, and my grandfather's will is deposited in your Cardinal Quinn' safe. Aside from that I'm the only one who has unrestricted access to Grandfather's rooms. If I wanted him dead, he would be so already," Kelly replied drily.

"I'm sorry, but I have to look at every possibility," Chase replied.

Carl Saunders' paper-thin lips curled into something like a smile. "I like you, Father. But now I'd like you to make yourself familiar with all the information about my guests. You'll meet them personally tonight at dinner. Aside from them, there's no human staff aboard. And you'll report to me daily about your progress."

Chase nodded. "Of course, Mr Saunders."

Kelly escorted him out and gave him a key card when they were back at the lift. "Th computer terminals in the guest quarters don't have any connection to the station's systems, and every message sent from and to earth is checked," she told him. "With this, you can contact earth without any restrictions and also have access to the station's surveillance."

Chase took the key card. "Were you there the last time your grandfather was attacked?" he asked. "As far as I know, the assassin had disguised himself as a maintenance worker to gain access and manipulated the oxygen distribution via the main control center."

"That's true. But no, I was on earth at the time. If I had been here..." She sadly shook her head. "Since then, there hasn't been any human staff aboard, just basic housekeeping droids and those two guards here. But Grandfather is convinced that his enemies will try again."

"So he could never find out who's behind this?"

"No. Grandfather isn't the most easy of persons, and he always had enough enemies although they had never threatened his life. The directors of competing enterprises, ambitious members of his own supervisory board, two ex wives... he has angered some people over time."

"It seems so," the Father agreed.

Kelly took him to the floor where his livings quarters were located. His door could only be opened via his own retina scan and the key card, then he stepped in. It was a luxurious room with a huge window, showing the panorama of earth, softly glowing in blue. Here was elegant wooden furniture as well, antique paintings decorating the walls, sparkling candelabra, and more flowers. Chase decided that the space station had to have its on greenhouse.

The huge soft bed with its satin covers looked inviting for a little nap, but Chase had to unpack first. He took out his best soutane to put it into the pressing iron machine so it would look immaculate for dinner. All disciples of the Church of Light always wore blindingly white robes made of dirt-repellent, robust material, but the finer soutane always got crinkled. 

Rank was also shown by a colored sash around the waist: white for a candidate, gold for a father, golden red for a bishop and dark red for the seven cardinals who led the Church of Light. Each cardinal was in charge of a special department. Cardinal Quinn, Chase's superior, was head of the inquisition department, but the inquisitors didn't have any outward signs to distinguish them from their colleagues working for other departments. The inquisitors, however, held much more power.

After the Father had put away his few belongings, he put the key card into the computer terminal and confirmed his identity with another retina scan. 

A few moments later, a list with all personal files of the guests appeared. Carl Saunders had made it a point to invite only those which he already found suspicious and which had explicitly wished to be invited – this way, he hoped to trap the assassin. There were six other people besides Chase, Kelly, and Saunders himself. The young inquisitor quickly scanned the list.

Abdul el Shaziri, Saunders' biggest business rival an CEO of Shaziri Enterprises, headquartered in North Africa. 

Tina Ludwig, stage name Atlantis, Saunders' third ex wife and famous model. 

Ashton Arezzo, actor and Tina's boyfriend.

Veronica van Hogen, former secretary of the United Nations and ex wife number two. 

Laurent Villiers and Natalia Karakova, longtime, ambitious members of the supervisory board of Saunders Industries.

Tyler Derringford, son of Albert Derringford whose business had suffered a hostile takeover by Saunders Industries two years ago. 

All of them had plenty of reasons, of that Chase was sure. But would they try to execute their plans themselves? Was one of them even the true culprit? The young inquisitor would watch them very closely at dinner.

  
  


When the invitation to dinner arrived two hours later, Chase had already changed his clothes and made himself presentable. Often enough, the Father went on undercover missions and had to look the part so no one recognized him as an official of the Church. His tall, strongly-built figure, handsome face, and charming smile made him a person you wanted to trust, but if needed, he was also able to look as sinister as the meanest of criminals. The thin lines of beard that accentuated his chin helped with that. 

Tonight, however, he had to be the charming young priest that every woman fawned over and regretted the fact that he had taken a vow of celibacy. Acolytes of the Church were generally allowed to marry, but especially the enforcers of the inquisition department often choose celibacy to fully concentrate on their task. This had rescued Chase from a lot of awkward questions, and his true reason for not marrying a woman remained his secret.

The young inquisitor brushed through his short, black hair one last time and checked if no stubble was left where it had no place to be, then he left his room. 

Three floors down, he found himself at the entrance of an opulent ballroom that was as lavishly decorated as the entrance hall. The only time Chase had ever seen such a room had been in a period movie taking place in the 19th century. Next to it seemed to be the dining hall – Chase decided that he needed to memorize the layout of the whole station – but the doors were still closed. 

The other guests were standing around or sitting on red velvet sofas and easy chairs; most of them had a glass in their hand. Chase carefully studied each one of them.

Mr Shaziri, tall and big in his black tuxedo and graying beard that couldn't hide his bloated face, seemed to be already through some glasses of wine, but he happily helped himself to some more. 

Next to him sat a rather unremarkable woman with a blond chignon in a dark-blue evening gown and an equally mousy man with old-fashioned glasses. Both were in their forties – Mrs Karakova and Mr Villiers, members of the supervisory board. They seemed to be deep in conversation and barely noticed their drinks.

On one of the other sofas, Atlantis and Mr Arezzo had made themselves comfortable. The model practically sat on her lover's lap and presented her endlessly long legs. Silvery markings shimmered through the material of her transparent boots that indicated an artificial extension and very likely a movement enhancement. She was wearing a very short, striped skirt and a low-necked top whose orange color clashed with her short, pink hair. Pinkish contact lenses covered the natural color of her unnaturally huge eyes. Her tiny nose and overly full lips were also clearly no attributes any human would be born with. 

Ashton Arezzo was less obvious in his beautification, but his artfully tousled hair was too blond, his tan too perfect and his shoulders too broad to be called natural. As he laughed at a joke his girlfriend was telling, Chase could see the silver marking at Arezzo's throat that indicated a voice modulator. 

The young inquisitor tried not to show his disgust; the Church of Light had forbidden all cybernetic implants that weren't justified by strictly medical means, but for the entertainment industry of the United Nations, such enhancements were rather mandatory. He was sure that Atlantis and Ashton would have looked a lot better without all these makeovers.

The person sitting alone in one of the easy chairs, carefully sipping on her drink, was quickly recognized as Veronica van Hogen. Although she was nearing fifty, she exuded a kind of regal beauty that immediately drew eyes on her and, at least where Chase was concerned, easily overshadowed the model's artificial prettiness. The only thing she had clearly tampered with was her hair that showed a deep, rich red without any gray and that perfectly matched the color of her chinese evening gown.

On impulse, Chase wanted to walk over to her and present himself when he heard a voice behind him saying, "Excuse me, but could you let me pass, please?"

The Father turned around and realized that he had been indeed blocking the way out of the lift. He stepped aside to make way for guest number seven, gaining the opportunity to scrutinize Mr Derringford. 

The man was not as tall as himself and of slimmer build which was clearly shown by the fact that his mostly black clothes were even more revealing that Atlantis'. He was wearing low-cut and very tight pants which had transparent inlays at the sides of his upper legs, knee-high boots, long gloves, and a lot of silver jewelery. The most provoking piece, however, was the sleeveless top with more sheer material interjecting the solid cloth; it also left the skin just above the hipbones completely bare. There were no enhancements at first sight, but the bright green contact lenses and equally green streaks in the chin-length brown hair clearly showed the dictate of latest fashion. There was also a thin, black, vine-like tattoo sneaking down the right side of Mr Derringford's face from eyebrow to chin. 

Chase couldn't help but wonder how it was possible for someone to look so cheap and yet so exclusive at the same time.

Tyler Derringford had noticed his gaze, of course. His glossy lips formed an ironic smile. "I'm not meeting your approval, Father, am I?"

The photo the files had provided had indeed shown a much more unremarkable boy with shy eyes, but Chase knew it had been taken some years ago. He held out his hand in polite greeting and forced himself to stop staring.

"We're all Mr Saunders' guests. May I introduce myself? Father Holloway of the Church of Light and Mr Saunders' confessor."

"Tyler Derringford. And I guess that good old Saunders would have to confess a lot." His handshake was surprisingly firm despite the painted nails. 

"I'm under the seal of the confessional," Chase replied. "Have you met the other guests yet?"

"I know who they are, but I've never met one of them in person. I've been buried inside various boarding schools and a monastery in the Himalayas for the last two decades and only recently rejoined society."

"Then you have lost no time to fit in with latest fashion," Chase said drily. "Haven't you any interest in the family business?"

Tyler shrugged. "My old man has no saying whatsoever and is only using the supervisory board meetings for a nap. I can imagine better things to do with my time."

"And why are you here then?"

"You sure are curious, Father. I'm here to see the most advanced orbital station of our century. And old Saunders has the most expensive champagne." Tyler smirked.

Chase nodded. "I understand."

Nevertheless, he stayed on his guard. As harmless as the young man seemed, this careless attitude might hide more ambitious plans.

"Gentlemen, why don't you join us?" Mr Shaziri's slightly accentuated bass droned through the hall. "We haven't met yet and should remedy that!"

Chase and Tyler followed his request, shook hands and were introduced to all the others in the process. Mrs van Hogen just smiled gently, Mrs Karakova and Mr Villiers quickly turned back to their discussion, Mr Arezzo nodded politely, and Miss Atlantis reflexively turned on her charm. 

"Cool tattoo you have there, Ty. I can call you Ty, can't I, sweetheart?" she cooed. "And a real Father from that Church of Light! I'm not one for religion and all that stuff, but your robes are really looking hot."

"Thanks," Chase replied drily. "But perhaps I'll get the chance to tell you more about my church. Maybe it's more interesting than you think."

Atlantis giggled. "Oh, I'd join you in the confessional box anytime, Father!" She ignored her boyfriend's dark look and turned to Tyler. "Sweetheart, I want you to sit next to me at dinner. I simply have to tell you all about my latest international advertising campaign. And maybe you should think about modeling in the UN, as well. Are you enhanced somehow? You look like you are."

"It's just the nano tattoo; I can change its pattern or deactivate it altogether," Tyler replied.

"Neat! I've thought about getting one for some time now. Where did you get it? I've heard that the risk that it won't work at all is really high..."

Chase successfully managed to blank out the model's voice, and while Tyler was busy listening to her, he turned to Mrs van Hogen.

"Madam."

She smiled up at him. "Welcome to our little circle. Why don't you get yourself something to drink? Good old Carl has only the best in store." The last part sounded a bit cynical.

Chase took a glass of champagne from a nearby table and sipped at it before he replied, "Are you still mad at him about the divorce? It was over fifteen years ago."

"It is. You have done your homework. And maybe there's a recording device in your sleeve as well?" Veronica van Hogen asked. "I know exactly why you're here, young man, and I'll tell you this right away: if I wanted to kill Carl, I wouldn't be so stupid to come here in person."

"No? And how would you do it?" the young inquisitor asked without admitting anything. As Saunders had said, his guests were not stupid. 

"I'd hire someone, what else?" Mrs van Hogen emptied her glass in one gulp. "Or maybe I'd let the whole space station crash out of orbit. But all joking aside: Carl and I had always had our differences, even when we were married. It had been hard to reconcile the fact that he's a citizen of the Empire of Light and I'm from the United States. But I've always wished him well. It was good as long as it lasted. Every one of the others present has more reasons to want him gone than I have."

"For example?"

She looked at him indulgently. "Think about it, young man: Tina has profited from him and now went to amuse herself on greener pastures. Mr Shaziri doesn't have the guts, and besides that Carl's enterprise would be off the market with his death. I don't know about that young Derringford, but killing Carl wouldn't give his father back his firm. So who's left? The members of the supervisory board."

The Father smiled. "You are very sharp, madam."

She waved this aside. "Pure logic. But I do hope you catch the one who wants to harm Carl so that this whole thing will be finally over."

"I will so with the help of the Light," Chase replied. "And you've helped me already."

Mrs van Hogen just nodded and took another full glass of champagne from the table.

  
  



	3. Interlude 1 - The Jaguar Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrean turned away. The cold seemed to play tricks on his mind already if he was getting uselessly nostalgic. Nevertheless, a strange, nagging feeling remained that had nothing to do with the hunger in his belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to you all! Now we learn a bit more about what happened to Tyrean after he and Chase parted ways.

~ Somewhere in district 15, Eden City, AD 2660 ~

Tyrean pulled his tattered jacket more tightly around his upper body. Winter was coming, so it was getting more and more uncomfortable to sleep outdoors. He just had to find a safe place before it would start to snow. 

But this was easier said than done. The abandoned underground station he had inhabited the last two winters had been restored to its original function, so it was no option anymore.   
Then there was Razor's gang he could join; they held an abandoned house in the district that still had a working water supply. But this building would be teared down soon, and then what? Aside from that, Razor was ruling with a tight fist and merely shared the bare necessities with his followers. Tyrean had no intention of letting himself get used like this again after all the dreary years at the orphanage.

But what else could he do? He could have returned to the Church. Tyrean had to leave the orphanage two years ago after his thirteenth birthday and had been given a choice: serve the Church as a candidate and secure himself a solid education and a safe existence, or leave and fend for his own.

There had been no hesitation in Tyrean's choice although it might not have been the cleverest one. But he was done serving the Church.

A few months after Chase had left, old Father Reighley had died, and his successor, Father Jordan, felt that the right way to raise children was with strictness, not understanding. Instead of cleaning or writing down the commandments a hundred times, Father Jordan had deemed beating and starving a more apt punishment for misbehavior. This had made Tyrean even more rebellious than before, thus earning him even harder times.

Chase... since that day, Tyrean's deepest hope had been crushed bit by bit. Despite all promises, Chase had never contacted the orphanage. Tyrean had waited, and waited, but there had never been a visitor for him or even a note. 

Chase had forgotten him, despite everything he had said. He was just like all the others. 

Tyrean cursed softly. He didn't want to think of Chase since it still hurt too much every time. He had to concentrate on his problem at hand.

Razor's gang, the Church... and then there was a third choice. District 15 was notorious for its illegal brothels who presented themselves as completely decent clubs and restaurants, bribing the inquisitors to stay silent. Then and now Tyrean had been approached when he was sitting in a back alley in the evenings, but he had always gotten away quickly. Freezing to death was preferable to be doused with drugs and be molested by perverted old guys for the rest of a very short life. 

All that he could do for the moment was pickpocketing unsecured credit chips from unsuspecting pedestrians. With those, he could use public terminals to find empty buildings or other good places that might serve as his quarters until spring.

Tyrean left the little alley he had been sitting in and joined the crowd on the street. Two years he had survived by pickpocketing and now knew very well which people were the easiest of targets and which just looked as if they had money. 

While he was looking out for suitable victims, his gaze fell on the entrance of one of the disreputable establishments. There stood a dark-skinned young woman with hair dyed blond and in a short, black dress. She was talking to a guy whose outfit practically screamed "pimp". Finally he nodded, and the woman followed him inside with such a graceful walk Tyrean had never seen before. He surely had other worries right now than to stare at a whore, but the way that woman moved reminded him of something he had almost forgotten.

Years ago, Father Reighley had shown the children at the orphanage a video of long extinct animals. One of them had been a large feline called the black jaguar who had been noiselessly hunting in the mountains and forests. It had been a lesson in reminding the children not to interfere with the Creation – shortly after the extinction of this animal the First Apocalypse had started, extincting almost any life on the continent – plants, beasts, and humans alike.

Tyrean turned away. The cold seemed to play tricks on his mind already if he was getting uselessly nostalgic. Nevertheless, a strange, nagging feeling remained that had nothing to do with the hunger in his belly. 

 

A few hours later, Tyrean had filled his pockets with a sizable amount of credit chips and decided to return to his alley for the moment. Once again, he passed the brothel where he had seen the jaguar woman, but there were no people standing by the entrance now. In fact, the establishment seemed to be closed already which was strange at this early hour. 

Tyrean was about to go by when he saw something moving in the small alleyway next to the building. Someone seemed to climb out of the window. The alleyway was so dark and narrow that very good eyes were needed to spot the movement. The other people, Tyrean noted, didn't notice anything at all.

He continued on his way and then looked over his shoulder carefully. Moments later, the jaguar woman came out of the alley. With graceful ease and completely unnoticed, she vanished into the crowd.

Tyrean didn't hesitate for a second and started following her.

This proved to be far more difficult than imagined cause Tyrean nearly lost her in the crowd a few times. How she managed to do that with her short dress and bright hair, he had no idea. 

For what seemed like hours, she just took detours through the district, then she went to the West Bridge and finally to the station of the hover train.

The next hover train just approached, and Tyrean hesitated a second too long to catch him. When he reached the station, however, he realized the jaguar woman was still standing there – and looking directly at him. 

Tyrean wanted to turn around immediately and disappear into the crowd, but by now, they had entered district 14 which consisted mostly of warehouses. There was no one else in sight.

"Are you intending to give up after all this effort?"

Tyrean turned around as he heard the deep, gentle voice. The jaguar woman walked towards him and smiled.

"What do you want?" he asked, suspiciously.

"It's quite a task to follow me this far. You have sharp senses, little guy," the jaguar woman said. "But the question is: what do you want? How would you feel about honing your talents and putting them in the service of a greater plan?"

"For which gang are you working?" Tyrean demanded.

The jaguar woman's smile broadened and revealed a set of perfect teeth. "I'm working for the best there is, little guy. And you could do the same. But I'm just asking once. This is your chance."

Tyrean felt confused. He still had no intention of getting used by some gang, but this seemed to be more than some pathetic little group of teenagers. This reeked of organized crime – with a good place to sleep in the winter, enough food and amenities. And Tyrean would have given anything to learn to become invisible like the jaguar woman. 

"I'll do it," he told her with resolve in his eyes.

"Very well." 

She playfully touched the wristband she was wearing. A soft humming noise sounded through the night, and Tyrean felt a strange pressure on his eardrums. Seconds later, his legs gave in. His sight blurry, he saw the jaguar woman looking down at him.

"Oh, don't look so surprised, little guy. If you had said no, I'd have set the ultrasound stunner on kill. I can't take any risks," he heard her saying.

Then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 2 - First Supper Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ha! Everyone knows why we're here: Saunders thinks that we want to whack him! And one of us will succeed for sure." Abdul el Shaziri raised his glass to a mocking salute. "Rest in peace, Carl!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, I'll be following a fixed update schedule: every second Tuesday. To be able to keep this up, I'll split the chapters in two parts from now on. The interludes will get one post cause they're much shorter.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 5th AD 2667 - later that evening ~

Dinner in the elegant dining hall was going smoothly so far. As expected, Mr Saunders himself was not present, but his empty place at the head of the table reminded everyone whose guest they were. 

Kelly Saunders had taken over the duties as hostess, and Chase was surprised how confidently she was entertaining the guests and keeping the conversation topics innocuous. 

The food was wonderful and of highest quality, but that had to expected. Chase enjoyed every bite since he didn't get such delicacies often.

To his left sat Mr Shaziri who continued to get himself drunk and therefore could keep up less and less with any conversation. To Chase's right, Ashton Arezzo had taken seat. The actor was barely concealing his anger over the fact that Atlantis was ignoring him. She was chatting with Tyler who sat next to her as promised, and was laughing rather shrill over this and that. Obviously, those two had found each other. 

Villiers and Karakova silently enjoyed their meal, and Chase caught himself looking over to them once again. According to Mrs van Hogen, those two were the one who had the most to gain from Saunders' death. But hadn't Kelly said that the money would be managed by a trust and not directly by the firm? Some more investigations were needed in that area. Mrs van Hogen seemed honest enough, but Chase had learned not only to trust his gut feeling. 

"If you want to find the culprit, you have to consider three facts," Chase's old mentor, Father Alonso, had always said. "Firstly, to commit a crime, one needs to meet certain mental, physical, or financial requirements. Which of the suspects meets them all? Secondly, the motive. Who gains the most from the crime? And thirdly, the culprit has to lie and deceive to stay hidden. But that doesn't mean that everyone who lies is automatically the guilty one. You have to find out which person is lying for which reason."

Those last two point were the one that Chase had find out. The murder's abilities were unimportant so far since it was Chase's job to prevent the murder in the first place and therefore had to be ready for everything. The station's security systems were extremely good, but there was always something missing. It would be his first job to find those holes.

"Father, you're not drinking anything," Mr Shaziri addressed him suddenly. His speech was already a bit slurred and his movements sluggish, but his gaze was clear. Chase knew enough about regular drinkers to not underestimate them. "There's a lot to celebrate tonight!"

"And what would that be?" the young inquisitor asked politely.

Shaziri laughed. "What indeed? Old Saunders' early funeral party! What else could this event be?"

The room went quiet in a second, and everyone was looking at Shaziri in consternation.

Chase's expression darkened. "I'm sorry, Mr Shaziri, but I can't tolerate such things. Mr Saunders is still alive and will continue to be so for many years, if the Light allows."

"Ha! Everyone knows why we're here: Saunders thinks that we want to whack him! And one of us will succeed for sure." Abdul el Shaziri raised his glass to a mocking salute. "Rest in peace, Carl!"

The young Father looked over to Kelly who slightly shook her head. Obviously she didn't want to call the security droids, so it fell on Chase himself to take care of the drunken entrepreneur. Polite, but with emphasis he put a hand on Shaziri's shoulder. "Sir, please come with me." The tone of his voice didn't tolerate any protests as well.

The drunk winced a bit, but then he slowly got up from his chair and let himself be let out of the dining hall.

Luckily, there were no more problems. The Father brought Shaziri to his quarters, and as soon as the businessman had reached his bed, he fell onto it and started to snore. Chase stayed a moment to make sure the man wasn't suffocating or simulating, then he left.

While he rode the lift back to the floor where the dining hall and the ballroom were located, Chase tried to think over the events until now. 

Shaziri's outburst had confirmed to him that every guest knew exactly why he or she was here. And that meant that they were either not easily intimidated or truly intending to kill Saunders.

 

Dinner was apparently over since Atlantis and Arezzo were headed for the lift when he arrived. The young woman tried to mollify her grumbling companion; she was whispering loving nonsense into his ear, patted his arm, and nuzzled up against him.

"We'll retreat for the night, Father," Atlantis told Chase with clearly too much happiness in her voice while they stepped into the lift and chose their destination. "The others are in the parlor, three floors down. Just those two supervisory board members have already gone to bed – with each other, if you ask me!" she giggled. "Mrs Karakova is married, but that as never stopped anyone."

"Did Mr Shaziri make any more trouble?" Ashton asked more out of politeness than interest and pulled Atlantis closer to her in the confining area of the lift.  
Chase negated this, and when the lift stopped, wished them a good night. 

While he was riding further down to the level where the parlor was located, he thought about those two. Atlantis was hard to assess since she didn't seem to take anything seriously, but Arezzo was obviously quite infatuated with her. If it was true love or just possessiveness was hard to tell, but there were some strong emotions at play for sure. Aside from that, the actor was the only guest on the station who hadn't been invited as a potential murderer but just as Atlantis' companion without whom she wouldn't have come at all. 

Chase made his way to the parlor. He had decided to work though the night and get himself acquainted with the security systems; besides, measurements of time like night and day were useless in space anyway and just habit.

But first, he wanted to make some more conversation.

Kelly, Mrs van Hogen, and Mr Derringford each had a bright, fruity cocktail in hand when he entered the elegant parlor. He watched them for a moment before he made his presence known. 

Kelly looked a bit pale and tired, he noticed, probably due to the huge responsibility she assumed the moment. According to the information Chase had, she was the only one of Carl Saunders' family who was involved in his business.

Saunders' first ex-wife had married again and was now living in the UN, and her son, Saunders' only known child, had cut all ties with the old man decades ago. Kelly's two older siblings also didn't want to have anything to do with their grandfather. There were no other relatives besides the two present ex-wives.   
What did Kelly hope to gain from working for her grandfather? She herself had admitted that she wouldn't inherit a large sum, but during the short conversation with Saunders and Kelly, Chase had seen reluctant, but true affection between those two. According to this, Kelly seemed to be the most trustworthy person on the space station. As she had said herself, she could have killed her grandfather anytime by manipulating the security measures to make it look like an accident. 

No, Chase decided, he could erase the girl from his list of suspects. 

And Veronica van Hogen? She was smiling gently and listening to Kelly who was telling her something about the station. The instant sympathy was still there, but the Father wasn't about to rule out the former UN politician. There was something sad and lonely in her eyes despite her smile.   
If she truly had put Carl Saunders behind her, like she had said, then why was she here in the first place? Just to show him that she was truly over their marriage?

Concerning Tyler Derringford, Chase was as unsure as he was about Atlantis. He was polite to everyone, but there was a certain cynical streak about him that seemed out of place in such an ivory-tower person who had lived his whole life in various schools. Aside from that, his appearance was unpleasantly distracting. 

To be continued in Part II


	5. Chapter 2 - First Supper Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler smirked as if he had guessed what Chase was thinking. "It's not easy assessing those people, isn't it? They're all more or less good actors, and each of them has at least one secret."

At the moment he was listening to the womens' conversation, but as Chase took a step forward, he turned his head towards him.   
"Father, we thought you went to sleep a well."

"No, I'd like to join you three for a while," Chase replied. He took the free easy chair beside Kelly who gave him a grateful smile.

"I'm very glad that you're here, Father. Mr. Sharizi can be rather short-tempered, and if I had him escorted out by a droid, he would have sued my grandfather right away."

"At your service, Miss Kelly."

"Tell me, young man, do you already see all of us here as your fold?" Mrs van Hogen asked, but it didn't sound derisive.

Chase smiled. "I can't help it, madam."

"Please call me Veronica," she offered and took another brightly cocktail from a side table to give it to him. 

Chase took it gratefully. He was careful with alcoholic beverages in general since they blurred the senses, but now and then he made an exception. The drink was delicious; no comparison to the synthetic stuff he was used to.

They chatted for a while, sticking to harmless topics like the food and the station's interior until they decided to call it a day. Chase wished all of them a good night. He hadn't learned anything new, he had to admit, aside from the fact that he believed Kelly and Veronica to be innocent. 

"Father, a moment, please." Tyler Derringford caught up with him at the lift. "Our quarters are on the same level. And I wanted to talk to you in private."

"Of course." They entered the lift which started to travel up with a soft hum. "What is it about?"

The young man smiled mirthlessly. "It's about the things Mr Shaziri said. If it's right, which I assume, then it's not enough to invite all the suspects. One must invite an investigator as well. And that would be you, probably an inquisitor. So please don't tell me you're just a humble little community priest."

The was no way Chase could answer with a lie at such a direct question since Tyler was convinced he was right anyway. "Mr Saunders invited me, his confessor, to stand by him – in any way."

Tyler nodded. "So let's hope you don't have to give last rites."

"Whom would you suspect?" Chase asked suddenly.

Tyler shrugged. "I don't know enough about all the history the people share with Saunders. He's not the most popular, and his death would be of use to many people. But whom of them would really resort to murder..."

With these few words he had summed up the young inquisitor's current dilemma. The Father was mildly surprised that this shallow young man was such a good observer. 

Tyler smirked as if he had guessed what Chase was thinking. "It's not easy assessing those people, isn't it? They're all more or less good actors, and each of them has at least one secret."

"You, too?" Chase couldn't help but ask.

"Perhaps. But maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Saunders," Tyler replied mysteriously. 

Suddenly Chase was again aware of the other's skimpy clothing – and the lascivious way he was leaning against the wall of the lift. When the lift stopped, they got out and walked down the hallway. As it turned out, Tyler was inhabiting the room opposite Chase.

"Goodnight, Father. Good luck meditating the problem." Then he vanished into his room. 

 

Good luck indeed. 

In his own quarters the young inquisitor started his systematic research. Kelly had already given him every important information about the station as well as access to the surveillance system. 

Sanctuary 24 consisted of eleven levels; eight of them were accessible to the guests. The other three were Saunders' private quarters at the highest level, a supply room and the now empty staff rooms. The command center to control life support, energy supply, and the engines was located in one of the adjacent wings framing the tower-like main structure. It could only be accessed from the supply room at the lowest level. 

The guests were situated on three levels: Veronica and Shaziri inhabited the two biggest suites on level 9. Atlantis and Arezzo, sharing a room, Villiers, and Karakova lived in slightly smaller apartments on level 8 while Chase himself Kelly and Tyler inhabited three of four rooms on level 7. 

The security system was next. On first sight, there was no weak point in it; even the life support was now linked to three different and independent circuits. The only people with access to the command center were Kelly and Saunders himself. Chase decided that a successful attack wasn't possible without Kelly's help. Her safety had to be guaranteed at any time. 

The last assassin had been rather clever, but there had been some information about him in the crime databases that had been neglected to be checked.  
There were also no weapons whatsoever on the space station, just the built-in high frequency weapons of the security droids. They could stun a person, but not destroy any of the station's interior. 

Of course all the guests and their luggage, which had been forced to be sparse, had been thoroughly checked for weapons, poisons, and other questionable items. Only Chase had been allowed to bring the traditional weapon of an inquisitor: a foldable sword made of wolfram carbide.   
There was no surveillance inside the guests' quarters, but a camera had been installed in every hallway and also inside the lift. 

Chase programmed a subroutine to record when each person left their quarters. He suppressed a yawn and went to the beverage machine located at the wall of his room to order a coffee. Sleep was no option as long as he hadn't found a solid lead. With a cup full of deliciously smelling coffee – made from real beans – he returned to his terminal. After a few moments of staring at the monitor, he let the engine project a diagram on the whole wall. The young Father had often enough noted how important it was to get an overview. 

One after another, he selected the pictures of the suspects and started to make notes under each and every photo: all of the things he had already learned plus their relationship with Saunders.

Satisfied, Chase took a few steps back and looked at his work. He realized that he hadn't really talked with Laurent Villiers and Natalia Karakova yet, but he would do that tomorrow. He also hadn't forgotten Tyler's comment about keeping secrets. 

Tyler Derringford's file revealed that the young man had survived a severe accident a few months back: the aircraft supposed to collect him from the monastery in the Himalayas had crashed, and a rescue team had found Tyler days later, barely alive. After weeks in a coma and complicated operations, this trip to Sanctuary 24 was his first appearance in public. 

This also explained why he didn't resemble the boy on the old photo a bit. Chase also realized where Tyler's cynical streak came from.   
Such an experience left marks on a person – on his body as well on his soul.

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 3 - Reasons and Abysses part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And Miss Tina?" Chase asked.
> 
> "When I die, she'll get the legal portion like any other family member, but only if she doesn't marry again until then. She and that fop are engaged, but she keeps him dangling to get to my money first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on holiday for the next weeks. regular updates will resume on march 11th.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 6th AD 2667 ~

Early the next morning, Kelly contacted Chase and told him that Saunders wanted his first report. He drank a few cups of that delicious coffee to counter the lack of sleep, then left his rooms. Kelly awaited him at the lift. The young woman looked as tired as he felt.

"I noticed that you checked the surveillance?" she asked. "Did you find any breaches?"

The young inquisitor negated this. "So far, I didn't. If we know at any time where the people present on this station are located exactly, I don't think it possible that something can happen."

That seemed to calm Kelly. "Very well. But it's not easy just sitting around and waiting for the next attack," she murmured. "I really hope that you'll identify the assassin first."

"I'll try my best," Chase promised and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "But must I ask you to be very careful. Don't stay alone with any of the guests and only move about in the areas where cameras are installed. You are the key to Mr Saunders."

She nodded. "Don't worry. I carry a tiny emitter chip monitoring my life signs. As soon as those are deviating from normal – for example, if I'm threatened and experience deadly terror – my access to Grandfather will be denied. This way, no one can force me to open the door for him."

This was good news for Chase. He asked her to give him the frequency of her emitter chip so he would be noticed if anything was out of the ordinary with Kelly. She nodded and promised to do so right away.

The young inquisitor followed the girl to Saunders' refuge on the highest level where the droids stood in silent vigil. Those machines, Kelly told him, ran on a self-sustaining and very simple system that could neither be hacked nor deactivated with an EMP blast.

This time, Carl Saunders approached Chase. He was sitting in a purely mechanical wheelchair whose wheels he had to operate manually. Up close, he looked even more mummy-like, but his eyes were lively and full of energy in a way Chase had seldom seen even in a young person. It would clearly be a long wait for his enemies if they hoped for a natural death. This man, as fragile as he seemed, could be kept alive and with a mind clear enough to run his business for the next twenty or thirty years to come.

"Report!" the old man requested, and Chase gave him a briefing of his meager findings so far. Finally, Saunders interrupted him. "Yes yes, I know all that already. The question is: are you suspecting someone already?"

"It's too early for that," the Father evaded this question. "I must gather some more information at first. And I'd be thankful if you could answer some questions for me."

"I'm listening," Saunders grumbled.

"Your fortune will be managed by a trust after your death, as you said. The question is, who will be managing the trust? Who will get the power of decision?"

Saunders grinned, showed a perfect set of teeth that looked rather out of place in his ancient face. "The Church of Light, Father. I don't trust any of these other vultures, but your cardinals will do the right thing with it. They'll be able to elect the new CEO as well. I'll made that decision public."

This changed everything. Any motif out of greed was now off the table if none of the suspects would be able to get their hands on Saunders' money and his majority of the firm.

"The cardinals will choose wisely," Chase promised. "But what about the supervisory board? Their members will get more power and freedom of choice."

"They will do so for sure once the old man with his inconvenient decisions is gone," Saunders grumbled with some self-irony. "My rivals will think so as well. That leaves my ex wives."

"Mrs van Hogen doesn't seem to hold any grudge," Chase reminded him. "She made a rather melancholic impression on me."

Saunders snorted. "Good old Veronica is a still ocean, and those run deep, as you know. What ever she might say, she has never forgiven me for daring to marry again after our divorce. It didn't last long with Tina – I'm not using that silly stage name of hers – but Veronica is still jealous, believe me."

"And Miss Tina?" Chase asked.

"When I die, she'll get the legal portion like any other family member, but only if she doesn't marry again until then. She and that fop are engaged, but she keeps him dangling to get to my money first."

That was important information. "Thank you, Mr Saunders. This helped me a great deal. I'll return to my work then."

"And hurry!" the old man urged him.

 

Chase made his way back to his rooms and watched the video feed that showed him where the guests currently were. Atlantis and Ashton visited the greenhouse that existed on this station as he had assumed. Villiers and Karakova hadn't left their suites yet, and neither had Derringford. Mr Sharizi was sitting in the parlor and playing cards with Mrs van Hogen. They seemed to play poker – and he seemed to lose.

Satisfied with this, the Father began to complete his notes. Atlantis and Ashton Arezzo sudden had a motif; even more regarding the fact how possessive the young actor was behaving.

Mrs van Hogen, however, had more reasons to hate Atlantis, although the model's marriage with Saunders hadn't lasted. People desperately in love couldn't be put past to murder.

Even taking into fact the news about the money, there were still enough possible motifs. Chase allowed himself a deep sigh and got back to the security measures. He almost played with the idea of asking Kelly to create an artificial breach to bait the assassin. But this was far too risky at the moment.  
A symbol on the monitor showed Chase that his requests for information on the guests had been processed with the inquisition archive. This could help if he found something hinting at a criminal personality. Crimes of passion were always possible, especially if strong emotions like love or hate were involved, but most people could be profiled to make them more or less possible culprits.

What he found there was indeed interesting. 

Abdul el Shaziri had been arrested a few times in the UN because of violent and drunk behavior at some casinos and brothels. Lots of money had buried these scandals, but the Inquisition knew, of course. There had also been various conflicts with Saunders going further than pure business rivalry, but there were no details listed.

Chase had to pursue this further.

To his surprise, even Veronica's file had a stain on it: in her youth she had been a member of a radical Luddite party which hated any kind of high technology and tried to get the peoples' attention by bombing various labs and firms. Later on, Veronica completely distanced herself from this, and in her long and successful career there had never been any hints that she had fallen back to her youthful follies. But the fact remained that Saunders Industries produced highly specialized electronics. Chase decided to keep that in mind. Combined reasons were also possible. And even Saunders had called his ex wife a still and very deep ocean…

The Father didn't manage to read any further because a little signal reminded him of lunch time.


	7. Chapter 3 - Reasons and Abysses part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I understand that. But now you know everything," the young woman said and took a deep breath. "I'm not angry at you, Father. I want you to find the person who wants to kill Grandfather as much as you do. I also thought about possible motifs, and I'm sure it's not about money. As you know, no one will get it if he dies. It has to be something personal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the wait!

Everyone was present at the dining room, and the whole atmosphere seemed to be far better than the previous evening. Mr. Shaziri didn't drink too much, and Veronica chatted politely with Atlantis. If she truly hated the younger woman, she didn't show it at all.

After lunch, Chase joined Laurent Villiers and Natalia Karakova for a cup of coffee. Both of them exuded a kind of inconspicuousness that was clearly intentional so they would be underestimated. Their faces were polite and nondescript, almost mask-like, hiding everything - or nothing. This made them excellent business people and possibly even better poker players.

"I was asking myself when you would come to us, Father," Mr. Villiers addressed him. "Ever since Mr. Shaziri's little show yesterday evening your interest in the abysses of human souls must have been peaked even more."

"The abysses of human souls are my profession, after all," Chase replied and smiled disarmingly. "So you think as well that someone among us is harboring murderous intents?"

Now it was Natalia Karakova's turn to answer. "The intent isn't as important as the execution, don't you think?"

"Of course. But it will be difficult, maybe even impossible under the given circumstances. Maybe they'll change their mind." He kept his eyes fixed on the supervisory board members. Had he imagined things, or was there some kind of smile tugging at Villiers' lips?

"We'll know it sooner or later," Mrs. Karakova allowed. "If you want my personal opinion, I think that Saunders is paranoid. But he handles things his own way, like he always does."

Chase nodded. "So you're not always agreeing with each other?"

Now Laurent Villiers was truly smiling, albeit very thinly. "That would be the understatement of the century. Usually it's all of us against Carl, or him against us, if you prefer that. So far, the old guy has always gotten the upper hand. It hasn't been bad for business, but during the last two years his decisions haven't been the wisest. Our stock has lost value."

"He's getting senile, what else?" Mrs. Karakova huffed. "We have requested various medical certificates to prove that he's no longer sane, but no luck so far."

Chase was rather surprised how open those two talked about their moves against Saunders. "You do know that you're making yourself suspicious, don't you?"

Now she laughed, an expression that made her a lot more sympathetic. "Father, with all due respect, but this is all about business. If Saunders wouldn't be CEO, then it would be someone even worse. Saunders is the devil we know, if you'll excuse the expression."

"I understand what you mean," the Father allowed. 

"If you're truly searching for potential suspects, maybe you should take a look at the ones closest to Saunders," Villiers said and filled their cups with fresh coffee. "What about his granddaughter? Carl had been rather displeased with her some time ago because she had a relationship with one of his minor employees, and he disapproved of that. He sent the boy to one of the experimental laboratories in the west. After that, the attacks began."

This was new information. So maybe Kelly wasn't the only unsuspicious person on this station? 

"What's this employee's name?" he asked.

Villiers thought about this for a moment. "David... something. McMiller? No, McArthur. That was it, David McArthur. He is a software engineer, I believe."  
Chase would check this name, of course, and ask Kelly about it, although the supervisory board members might want to distract him from something else with this story. He had to stay alert.

 

He thanked them both and went on his way to talk to Kelly. A quick look at the camera feeds showed him that she was in the greenhouse. There was a complete level of the space station dedicated to the growing of flowers that decorated every room. Amongst palm trees, blooming bushes and beds, a swimming pool had also been built, flanked by deck chairs. If it hadn't been for the huge panorama window showing earth slowly turning, it could have been a scene out of a luxury hotel on a tropical island. 

Kelly was busy binding fresh bouquets together. Chase watched her for a moment before he made his presence known. Since there wasn't any human staff aboard anymore, all of the tasks that couldn't be done by a machine fell to the young woman.

Saunders was exploiting her, there was no doubt of it. And if Chase took into consideration what the supervisory board members had just told him, the relationship between grandfather and granddaughter might not be as good as he had thought.

"Miss Kelly? May I help you?"

The girl turned toward him and pushed some wet strands of hair out of her face. The temperature on this level was also tropical.

"Oh, Father. I'm almost finished, but could you be so kind to hold this bouquet so I can bind it together?"

He took the voluminous bouquet from her; it was clearly meant for the table in the dining hall.

"Miss Kelly... there is something I've heard about you."

She looked at him over the flowers. "It's about David, right?"

Chase nodded. "Would you tell me your side of the story?"

"There isn't much to tell," she said. "David McArthur had been a minor employee, and Grandfather didn't find him suitable for me. He'd preferred to see me with the son of one of his supervisory board members or, even better, with the heir of one of his rivals. Mr. Shaziri has a nephew, a little older than me, who will inherit the firm. But working for Grandfather doesn't mean he can decide over my private life. It ended with David getting transferred to the experimental lab. Most of the employees working there fall ill sooner or later. Grandfather might as well killed him on the spot. And I couldn't do anything."

Chase caught her hands underneath the bouquet and found them trembling. "Maybe I can talk to Mr. Saunders about this? It's not right to punish this young man for his feelings. But I've also heard that the attacks started shortly afterward."

Kelly's usually gentle, dark eyes glistened. "Father, I told you already: if I wanted to kill Grandfather, and by the Light, I'm angry enough at him to do it, I have had a thousand perfect opportunities. I could have cut off the oxygen in his bedroom or put poison in his food. But all of this won't give me back David, and I love Grandfather despite all that he has done. And that is the reason why I'm here. I want to prove to him that I can manage any task he assigns to me. He has to respect my work and my decisions and realize that I'm no longer a child he can push around. And this enterprise is also important to me. If Grandfather trusts me enough one day, I can be the next CEO - and see to it that everyone from supervisory board member to janitor will be judged by the dedication to their work and not by the quality of their suit."

Chase hadn't expected this passionate outburst, but he felt that the young woman meant every word she had said. And he could understand her. There was so much injustice in the world, and although the Church of Light propagated an ideal society, reality was a different matter.

"I have to apologize, Miss Kelly. But as you know, I have to follow every lead," he finally replied and let go of her hands. Kelly took the finished bouquet from him and put it in a vase. "And the more is kept from me, the more suspicious I get."

"I understand that. But now you know everything," the young woman said and took a deep breath. "I'm not angry at you, Father. I want you to find the person who wants to kill Grandfather as much as you do. I also thought about possible motifs, and I'm sure it's not about money. As you know, no one will get it if he dies. It has to be something personal."

"Speaking of personal matters: how do you feel about Mrs. van Hogen and Miss Atlantis?" Chase asked.

Kelly smiled humorlessly. "I don't have much to do with them, but I like Veronica. She has always been very nice to me since I was a child. I think she still loves Grandfather although he was been rather unfair to her. Tina... I don't know. It's strange to think of her as my ex step-grandmother although she's barely older than me. We never had anything to talk about, and I don't know what could have possessed her to marry Grandfather except for the money. Why he married her, I don't know either, but it wasn't love. I guess she's able to wrap men of any age around her little finger."

Chase nodded. "It seems so. Well, you gave me a lot to think about."

"Father, if you need a quiet place, I can recommend the pool." Kelly pointed toward the area behind her. "I've always found swimming very helpful for clearing my head. Swimming clothes are in the changing cubicles."

"Thanks. And you're sure you don't need any more help?" Chase asked.

Kelly shook her head and started to load the finished bouquet on a little robot. "As I said, I have to do this on my own. I'll see you later, Father."

To be continued...


	8. Interlude 2 – Moon of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That was quicker than I thought, Tyrean, " the jaguar woman stated. She was sitting behind the desk, looking pleased.

~ Somewhere in Eden City, AD 2660 ~

Tyrean woke with a horrible headache. He had never had enough money to buy alcohol or drugs, but obviously ultrasound weapons caused a hangover as well. 

Slowly he pulled himself up and looked around. He was lying on a bed in a small, clean, dimly lit room with no windows and two doors. A wardrobe, a little table and a chair completed the furniture. On the table stood something to eat.

Tyrean went to the door to his right, but it was locked. The one to his left, however, led to a bathroom. On a stool someone had put a complete set of fresh clothing. Carefully, he pulled up the hooded jacket lying on top of it. It would fit.

But he put the clothes back and returned to the bedroom. A shower, fresh clothes, a complete meal – all these things were very tempting, but this was still a prison. Quickly, Tyrean searched his pockets for some tool, but everything – even the lockpicks inside his shoes – were gone. 

The boy hammered his fists against the closed door. "Let me out, damn it! This isn't what I sighed on for!"

Much to his surprise, he got an answer. The already familiar voice of the jaguar woman sounded from invisible loudspeakers. "Good morning, Tyrean. There's no need to be impolite. Why don't you eat breakfast first, take a shower, and change clothes? We'll talk later."

But Tyrean didn't trust her. How did she know his name? What if there were drugs in the food?

On the other hand – it smelled delicious. When the jaguar woman didn't respond to his shouting anymore, the boy decided to take the risk. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, but he needed his strength.

Cereals with real fruit in it, fresh bread with jam, and hot cocoa – the children at the orphanage had gotten such luxury only on the highest holidays, and always far too less. Tyrean forgot about his worries concerning drugs in a minute and tucked in with the insatiable appetite of a malnourished adolescent. 

To whatever gang the jaguar woman belonged to, they sure had money.

After he had finished, he decided to make use of the facilities and the news clothes. It had been a while since he had been able to get clean.  
When Tyrean was done, he wasn't about to stay put and wait. He started to search his cell for something useful. The door was secured with an analogue lock, not a digital one, and although Tyrean didn't have his lockpicks, he tried to use the handles of the spoons as replacement. It was a rather half-hearted try, but to his great surprise, the lock made a few ominous clicking sounds.

Now his curiosity was peaked. Tyrean crouched down and now tried in earnest.

It took a while, but finally it worked: the door was open, allowing him to step into the hallway beyond. It was empty and brightly lit, lined with identically looking doors. He couldn't see any surveillance tools, but that didn't mean anything. Carefully he continued on his way, listening for any sound.

Tyrean felt undecided. On the one hand, he wanted to find a way out, but on the other, he was curious. Where was he? And who were those people the jaguar woman belonged to?

As soon as he had reached the first crossing of corridors which offered the alternative of more identically looking hallways, the lights suddenly went out and left him in complete darkness. Tyrean suppressed a curse; that was no simple blackout.

He waited for a moment until he was sure there wasn't any source of light, then he started to feel his way around the corner and ran down the hallway to his left. His bare feet didn't make any sound on the carpet. 

His hands stretched out in front of him, he noticed in time when the hallway ended to offer another choice of left and right. He chose the left one since he believed there was something like a silhouette visible at the end. But maybe it was just wishful thinking. 

He had been right. After another turn, he could see a few glowing points moving toward him.

They were eyes.

The boy didn't hesitate for a second. He turned around and ran back. Who or whatever was approaching him, he didn't want to meet it. 

Feverishly, he felt his way along the walls of the hallway to try the doors, but most of them didn't even have handles. The few with a handle were locked. 

Tyrean looked back over his shoulder and noticed the eyes following him. He could see them clearly at the end of the hallway. And they knew exactly where he was. He started to run again, faster this time, choosing his way completely by random amidst the sheer endless maze of corridors.   
But he wouldn't be able to keep this up forever. He had to find a way out, and quickly.

Tyrean crouched down in a corner and started to think in earnest. He didn't have any tool or weapon that could be of use, and he didn't know the layout of this building. The only clue were his pursuers.

A quick look around the corner confirmed to him that they had caught up with him again, although they had slowed down. Had they lost him?  
This was his chance. Once again, Tyrean darted off and took three turns left. If he wasn't completely mistaken, he had run in a circle and was now behind his pursuers.

He was lucky. His pursuers had stopped and were now silently discussing how to proceed. They looked at each other with their glowing eyes, and in that light, Tyrean could see now that they were three men in black combat suits with weapons in hand. Their faces were hidden behind masks, just showing those strange eyes.

The weapons... Tyrean squinted. Those were most likely ultra sound weapons like the one the jaguar woman had used on him. His kidnappers surely didn't want to perforate the walls of their own base.

The conversation stopped, and the men now went into different directions. Tyrean once again pressed himself into a corner in a smaller hallway and waited until one of them passed him. With a quick movement he grabbed the man's weapon and pulled the trigger. A muffled sound told him that he had hit. Holding his breath, he listened for any sound, then he started to search the unconscious man. The glowing eyes turned out to be some kind of glasses. Tyrean put them on for try - and suddenly, the world around him looked bright and clear, albeit in different shades of red. 

The man's pocket provided Tyrean with a key card. Weapon in hand, he ran off.

The night vision glasses made it child's play to evade the other pursuers, but it was only a matter of minutes until they would find their missing team member. Tyrean had to find the door the key card belonged to. And there it was in a little hallway, with a scanner next to it. 

The exit!

Tyrean pulled the card through the scanner, and as the door unlocked, he pushed it open and ran through it - right toward a writing desk. Tyrean could stop himself before he stumbled against it.

"That was quicker than I thought, Tyrean, " the jaguar woman stated. She was sitting behind the desk, looking pleased. 

Tyrean took off the glasses. The room was brightly lit, albeit sparsely furnished. The jaguar woman now looked very different: a simple business suit, hair pinned up, modest makeup. She looked like a lawyer in her office. 

She activated a little com device on her desk. "Operation 'rabbit hunt' is over, " she ordered, and a male voice acknowledged. 

"What was that all about?" Tyrean demanded to know and slammed the night vision glasses on the desk. "Do you test all your new recruits this way?"  
"Yes, we do," the jaguar woman told him. "We don't have any use for incompetent idiots, but you didn't disappoint me. Sit down, then we'll talk."

Still suspicious, Tyrean took seat on the single available chair in the room. "Okay, then start talking. Who are you, and what kind of club is this? If I passed your test, then I want to know what's going on."

"You can call me Jareen," the woman introduced herself. "I'll be your supervisor and mentor. The organization you have just joined is the Luna Mortis. Surely you've heard of us."

Tyrean stared at her, completely stunned. Of course he had heard of this organization. No one knew for how many centuries it had been existing, where their bases were located or who was a member. Nevertheless, it could be called the worst-kept secret on this planet. Every child knew that this secret organization existed, but that was all anyone knew.

There were certain ways to get in touch with the Luna Mortis to ask for a job done. Murder, blackmail, theft, kidnapping, forgery - for the right amount of money, any illegal action would be executed perfectly. Of course anyone knew that the Luna Mortis had done it, but the client remained safe and anonymous.

Needless to mention that the organization was a big nuisance to the Church of Light. But even the cleverest and most cunning inquisitor had never found even the smallest hint to the organization’s whereabouts or its members. The assassins of the Luna Mortis were like ghosts; intangible, but terribly real. How they were recruited, who they were and what kind of incredible training allowed them their perfect camouflage, no one knew because no member had ever been caught by the authorities. And if one had been caught, the authorities never realized it. 

"Just a moment." Tyrean had found his voice again. "If those guys out there were Luna Mortis agents, how have I been able to evade them? I thought none of you ever failed."

"Those guys weren't agents, just recruits in their second year of training. Otherwise you wouldn't have stood a chance," Jareen told him. "And the one you knocked out will get punished. They are no comparison to our fully-trained agents. In one year, you could be were those recruits are, or even better."

Tyrean crossed his arms in front of his chest. "This hunt was ridiculous. They simply had to catch me with those night vision glasses. As soon as I had them, it was cake."

"I know. It really was too easy for you. I should have let you find my door in the dark." Jareen smiled, making her look beautiful and dangerous. "I promise you better challenges for your training, Tyrean."

"How do you know your name?"

"We have our ways. But your name won't be of any consequence from now on. When we brought you here, any information about you was deleted from the Net. As far as the world is concerned, the orphan Tyrean Remarr is dead."

"I've always been," Tyrean remarked. Chase had never returned for him, so there wasn't anyone left who he wanted to find him. Finally he stood up and looked at Jareen, resolve in his eyes. 

This was his chance to become one of the best.

"When do we start?"

 

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 4 - Scars Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase looked up at Atlantis. He had to have a serious conversation with her next to gain more information about her relationship with Saunders. And he had to talk to Tyler as well without getting distracted.

# 

_~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 25, June 6 th, AD 2667 ~_

The young inquisitor followed the small path between palm trees and other high plants to the pool. His mind was so tangled with contemplating the possibilities that he truly needed a little distraction. Physical training was the best way. There was also a separate gym room on the station, but a private pool amongst tropical plants was a different thing altogether.

The pool area wasn't empty. Atlantis had made herself comfortable on one of the deck chairs and basked in the light of artificial solar beams. For a second, Chase believed her to be naked, but then he noticed the tiny white pieces of cloth that could barely called a bikini.

Usually, Chase admired female beauty in the abstract way he did with a painting or a flower, but the model's artificial perfection was something he couldn't appreciate. Kelly, Veronica, even the cool, pale Mrs. Karakova were more beautiful in his eyes.

But there was no accounting for taste. Most men were attracted by superficial beauty.

"Ah, it's you, Father!" The young woman had spotted him and waved her hand. "Aren't you dying of heat in those stuffy vestment? Come on, find yourself some short little trunks and get cooled down!"

"If you believe it or not, Miss Atlantis, I was just about to," Chase replied and suppressed a laugh at her surprise. He had already noticed that she started flirting almost by reflex with any man she met. "Where did you leave Mr. Arezzo?"

"He's in the gym room, pushing weights," she told him. "Boring, if you ask me. But I'll be happy to have some more company. - Ty!" she called in the direction of the changing cubicles. "Guess who's here!"

"The Father, of course."

Tyler Derringford answered her just before he stepped out of the changing cubicle. He was wet and wearing the "short little trunks" Atlantis had mentioned. Chase suddenly felt sweat running down the back of his neck, but the heat he was experiencing had nothing to do with the tropical temperature in the room. Tyler's usual clothes, flashing skin here and there, were much more provoking than simple swimming trunks, but every glittering drop of water running down the slender, trained body seemed like an invitation nevertheless.

The Father also couldn't help but notice that Tyler's skin was far from immaculate. There were several thin scars that were only visible to sharp eyes in a certain light. Some were jagged and scattered; no doubt injuries of the horrible plane crash. But there were also lines so accurate they had to be the work of a surgeon.

Chase wasn't sure, but it appeared to him that there was a vertical line on each upper arm and lower leg as well as a horizontal one across the torso.

"You want to swim a bit?" Tyler asked, pulling the young inquisitor out of his thoughts.

"if you don't mind?"

"The pool's big enough." Tyler stepped up to the edge of the pool and took an elegant header into the water.

Atlantis smirked and leaned back to enjoy the solar beams. "You see, Father, I told you I'll get you out of your robes yet!"

 

Chase quickly changed his clothes. The swimming trunks were all very tight, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. After a quick shower, he returned to the pool and stepped under Atlantis' lusty gaze into the water. It was cool and nice. Chase seldom had any opportunities to go swimming, let alone in a luxurious private pool. He surely wasn't here for fun, but a little break wouldn't hurt.

Chase looked up at Atlantis. He had to have a serious conversation with her next to gain more information about her relationship with Saunders. And he had to talk to Tyler as well without getting distracted.

Tyler, Chase realized, was a fast swimmer, a lot faster than himself. He caught him at the edge of the pool. "You are really good. A lot of training?" he asked.

The young man propped himself up on the edge of the pool. "It's the first time I went swimming since I was released from the hospital."

"No cutback, as it seems."

Tyler smiled humorlessly and let go of the pool's edge. Immediately, he sank down onto the ground, pushing himself up again to the surface. "The natural uplift is gone."

Chase was confused. "How so?"

"Most of my ribs and some more bones were irreparably splintered and are now held together by flexisteel plates. It doubled my weight - and irritated the scanners at the station's entrance to no end."

The young inquisitor nodded. That explained the exactly cut scars - the flexisteel had been implanted there. Chase could now see that such a line also went down the entire spine. It must have been severely fractured as well.

Such implants were of course life-saving and thus legal medimplants tolerated by the Church, but the Father knew that there had been times when healthy people had been made into cyborgs to enhance their power. Flexisteel plates, for instance, had been used as subdermal armor to make soldiers invulnerable to almost any weapon. These so-called augmentations were declared illegal world-wide, contrary to purely cosmetic enhancements and reconstructive medimplants.

Tyler pushed himself off the pool's edge to swim another lap, and Chase noticed another detail: the skin on his left hand looked a lot less healed than the rest of his body. Tyler had always been wearing stylish gloves so it hadn't been visible. It looked like the remains of a burn.

But Chase had no chance to ask any further questions at the moment.

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 4 - Scars Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young Father just nodded and regarded the model carefully. "I don't have any clue about modeling, but I can see why your career is going smoothly."  
> Atlantis laughed. "Thanks for the polite compliment. But I've already noticed that I have the wrong shape for your taste."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think anyone cared, but I didn't update last time. Sorry for that.

After a few more laps, the inquisitor decided that it was enough for today and exited the pool. He took one of the fresh towels from the nearby shelf and sat down on the deck chair next to Atlantis. 

She deactivated the solar beam and stretched herself. “You’re really a sight for sore eyes, Father,” she noted. “I didn’t know the Church of Light’s officials were built that nicely.”

“Thanks. I’ll do my best,” Chase replied and started to dry his hair. “Miss Atlantis, would you allow me to ask you a few questions about Carl Saunders?”

The young woman drew her long legs up to her chest. “Shoot. Talking about Carl isn’t the most exciting of topics, but, oh well.”

“You marriage was very short-lived. Why didn’t it work out?” Chase had decided not to beat around the bush. Maybe he could provoke some emotions under all that makeup.

"Oh, that's easy to answer. Carl and I had a business arrangement: he helped me financing his career, and I was the glamorous girl at his side, especially on his travels to the UN. It wasn't truly necessary to marry, but Carl was old-fashioned and wanted to live by your Church's rules. But it does have its advantages: even after our divorce, I'm still a part of the Saunders family and enjoy some financial security."

Again, money. "And how does Mr. Arezzo fit in?"

"Ash is firmly resolved to marry me, but then I would lose the fixed share of Carl's heritage. Therefore, we're still waiting," she replied carelessly.  
Was she really that stupid or was it all for show? The girl had just confirmed a plausible motif for Chase – not for herself, but for Ashton Arezzo.  
"What does Mr. Arezzo think about it?"

"He doesn't give up. Ash tells me that he and I have enough money and that I'm not dependent on Carl's fortune, especially since 'that old fart might well continue breathing for the next thirty years', since he puts it. But I'm done with marrying for the moment. My career is doing well, but there isn't something like 'having enough money'. Ash and I are happy, so there's no rush," Atlantis said.

The question was if Ashton Arezzo was seeing things the same way. The young Father just nodded and regarded the model carefully. "I don't have any clue about modeling, but I can see why your career is going smoothly."

Atlantis laughed. "Thanks for the polite compliment. But I've already noticed that I have the wrong shape for your taste."

"Excuse me?"

The model looked at him with half-lidded eyes. "I couldn't help noticing how you stared at Ty. But don't worry, Father. I'm not one of your church's moralizers and don't care."

"Miss Atlantis, I truly have no idea what you are talking about," Chase replied stiffly, but his insides had turned cold as ice. 

Had he been that obvious?

All these years, Chase had been extremely careful so that his superiors and fellow inquisitors would never notice that he preferred men. The Church of Light condemned such preferences as the highest of sins, and he would not only be suspended from duty, but sent to one of the penal camps in the poisoned areas. 

The vow of celibacy protected him from the pressure of marriage, at least, but now and then, Chase undertook a tour into Eden City's nightlife that he officially called an undercover search for illegal establishments and sinners – like himself. It was pathetic, and he knew it. But there was nothing to be done. Chase had tried to be "normal" with all his heart, but he just couldn't. Was it truly a sin if the Light had made him this way?

So far, Chase had found no answer. But to atone for his sins, he had vowed to become the best inquisitor there was.

Atlantis remained silent, but her gaze was amused and knowing. She had surely made up her mind and wouldn't be convinced otherwise, but open-minded UN citizen that she was, she truly didn't seem to mind. But this knowledge made her dangerous nevertheless. The last thing the inquisitor needed were rumors.

"Well, thank you for your time, Miss Atlantis," he finally said. "See you at dinner."

"See you later, Father!" Atlantis waved at him and winked. Then she leaned back in her deck chair and closed her eyes.

When Chase passed the pool, Tyler surfaced again. "Interrogation finished?" he asked derisively.

"For now. But I'll like to talk to you as well, Mr. Derringford."

"Please call me Tyler or just Ty, like Atlantis does," the young man offered. "I'm not one for formalities."

"As you wish," Chase replied hesitantly. He didn't want to address the young man in such a familiar way, but he couldn't refuse without looking suspicious.

"Speaking of names, do you have a first name at all? Or has the title 'Father' become your first name already?"

Now the inquisitor couldn't help but smile. "That can happen rather quickly. My name is Chase. Well, it's actually Charles, but nobody has ever called me that."

For a split second, something flashed in Tyler’s emerald eyes that Chase couldn't identify, but the next moment, the humorless smile was back. "I like it. See you later… Chase."

Then he dove back under water.

The young Father followed him with his gaze or a moment, then he stepped into the changing cubicle. Now it was time for a strong coffee and less confusing conversations.


	11. Chapter 5 - Old Scores Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My grandmother always said: ‘The most poisonous of snakes are not the big cobras with their threatening behavior, but the tiny snakes you can barely see in the sand’. A clever woman she was."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but I totally forgot to post the new chapter. Have fun reading! Next update will be on June 17th.

~Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, AD June 6th 2667 ~

After adding his new information to the data he had already collected, the Father made sure that Ashton Arezzo really was at the gym. It was located on the same level as the parlor and the kitchen where Kelly was already preparing dinner. Although she didn't have to prepare everything by hand, it was still hard work to provide food for ten people with spoiled taste. Chase would have liked to help her, but now he knew that her personal ambition made her do all the work on her own.

When he arrived on the mentioned level, Chase heard some strange noises coming from the parlor. He hadn't checked the video feed there, but a moment later the source of the ruckus turned out to be a very drunk Abdul El Shaziri. The man held an almost empty whiskey bottle in his hand and hummed out of tune. It took Chase a moment to recognize the mangled melody of a famous funeral march. 

"Mr. Shaziri? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Ah, it's you. Come, join me for a glass. Cheers to old Carl!" Shaziri raised the bottle and took a few uncertain steps, but his words were surprisingly intelligible.

"You should better return to your quarters. I think you had enough for today. I'll accompany you." The tone of Chase's words made clear that this was not a request.

But the drunk refused. "Oh no, I won't let you take me to bed like a baby again," he grumbled. "I'm Carl's guest, so I can do the hell what I want. And if I want to get plastered, then I do so, damn it all!" He fell into one of the armchairs and looked at the Father through heavy-lidded eyes. "So, do you have a suspect yet? I mean, do you have found someone who's really out for Carl's blood and just doesn't talk big?"

"There are several," Chase replied truthfully and took a seat as well. "And since I guess I will never meet you sober, I might as well ask you now. Do you celebrate Mr. Saunders' funeral in advance because you hope that someone will kill him or because you know it for sure?"

The businessman gave a droning laugh. "I like you, getting straight to the point. Well, I'll tell you something about Carl and I. I inherited my family's business and managed to develop it into one of the largest electronics producer on the planet. And then came Carl. He had built his firm from practically nothing and had caught up with me in no time. But he was always honest. Brutal and ruthless, yes, but never illegal. It was a kind of competition game between us, you understand?” 

Shaziri paused for emphasis and took a big gulp from his bottle. 

“Well, and then it turned personal. Carl had just divorced his first wife and had nothing better to do then get into bed with mine. I divorced her and broke Carl’s nose. He sued me. I sued him back. He spread rumors that I made illegal deals. I took a lucrative offer right from under his nose. It went on like this for twenty damn years.” The old man suddenly grinned. “And what do you think happened then? Carl approached me a few months back with the idea of forgetting the old feud and fusing the firms. His granddaughter could marry my nephew who’s going to inherit my enterprise one day.”

“I heard about this already. Wouldn’t that have been a good opportunity to end the conflict?” Chase asked.

“I’d never interfere with my nephew’s private life. Ahmed is a good boy, and if he and Kelly had hit it off, why not? But she has someone else, and Ahmed told me that she isn’t his type. When Carl heard that, he withdrew his offer and threatened to take over my firm. But he can try all he wants!” Shaziri laughed again and raised his bottle. “I made some great deals, and my stock is rising every day. Carl won’t survive the next few days, and I’ll be rid of him forever.”

“But his firm won’t be off the market,” Chase reminded him.

“No, but the stock will plummet as soon as the news will get out that Carl has been murdered. Then I’ll grab the majority when everyone is selling in a panic. Cheers!”

There it was again: money as motif. But was Shaziri really so drunk to give him a motif on a silver plate? And he wasn’t the only one doing so. Of course Saunders had invited all those who were the most suspect, but the more Chase learned, the more plausible these suspicions got. There were not only those having a personal grudge, but Saunders’ death had immediate positive consequences for them.

Kelly would take over the enterprise and get back her boyfriend.

Atlantis would inherit and marry Ashton.

Shaziri would be rid of a personal enemy and get the chance to buy the majority of Saunders Industries.

Karakova and Villiers would strengthen their own interests and either support inexperienced Kelly or the old drunk Shaziri.

And Veronica would have her revenge against the man who had left her.

Only Tyler didn’t fit this pattern at the moment, but it was only a matter of time. Maybe his disinterest at his father’s business was just a front, and he hoped to get it back once Saunders was gone?

But the question remained which of the suspects were truly ready to kill Carl Saunders with their own hands. Shaziri had been violent in the past, but a broken nose was not yet a broken neck. Either way, he didn’t seem able to commit murder in his current condition. Or was it just a clever play? Regular drinkers like him often had much clearer heads than it appeared.

Once again, Chase couldn’t rule anything out.

“So, do you think I have the guts to kill Carl?” the old man asked. “Oh yes, I have. But I don’t have to, do you understand? I leave the dirty work to the younger generation.”  
This sounded like Abdul El Shaziri truly knew something.

“Care to place a bet on someone?”

“Let me see.” Shaziri frowned as he seriously contemplated the question. “Well, his granddaughter. She’s so sweet and harmless-looking. But this is not my home country where you can trust your own family. Or maybe that paradise bird of a model. Or that fop of an actor… Or maybe young Derringford? They're all tougher than they look. Don’t trust anyone who’s looking harmless and acting silly, Father. My grandmother always said: ‘The most poisonous of snakes are not the big cobras with their threatening behavior, but the tiny snakes you can barely see in the sand’. A clever woman she was.”

This was surprisingly good advice. “Thank you, sir. I’ll remember that. But still, you should quit the whiskey.”

“Why should I? If I fall and break a leg while I’m on this station, I can sue Carl again if he’s still alive then. I won’t be robbed of that fun.” With these words, Abdul El Shaziri emptied the whiskey bottle.

Chase gave it up, deciding that the old businessman was relatively safe in the parlor. As long as he was alone, he didn’t disturb anyone. But the young Father would see to it that Shaziri behaved at dinner.

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 5 - Old Scores Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young inquisitor expected to smell an expensive aftershave, but there was only the smell of standardized soap available in the station's showers – and something faintly metallic that he couldn't place. The next moment Chase was sure he had imagined it and caught himself staring again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd so love some little comments! I'm not usually begging, but the lack of comments for this story everywhere I post it is rather discouraging... even if you do find it bad, tell me why so that I can improve!

In the spacious gym next door, Ashton Arezzo was jogging on one of the treadmills, looking at a big screen showing a beautiful tree alley. Chase briefly looked at the various fitness devices before he made his presence known. 

“Mr. Arezzo, might I have a word?”

“Of course. Why don’t you join me for a while,” the young actor answered agreeably and slowed down a bit.

Chase stepped on the treadmill next to him. His long robes weren’t suitable gym clothes, but allowed a bit of jogging. His interrogations today were at least good for his health.

“You’re in good shape,” he noted, looking at Ashton. The broad-shouldered actor wasn’t his type at all, so he could make a compliment without being suspicious.

Ashton grinned. “Thanks. I have to be in shape for my next role. Did you watch the first two parts of Death comes at Dawn? I’ll be playing the main protagonist in part three, a mutant werewolf. I’ll be on screen shirtless most of the time, and if I’m fit enough, the guys at postproduction don’t have to enhance my muscles digitally.”

“I see.” Chase hadn’t watched many movies in his life, and although Eden City had big cinemas, the Church advised her followers to avoid any entertainment glorifying violence and sex. The last movie Chase had truly enjoyed had been an animal documentary back at the orphanage… 

No, he didn’t want to think about this.

"I'm very particular in preparing for my roles," Ashton told him, like he would have for a press interview. "If you work for a dream factory, that dream should at least look as real as possible. Back then, for 'The last lone Gunman' I've lived for weeks in a tent together with the last human cowherders in asia. And in preparing for 'Digital Knightfall: Cyberspace Odyssey' I learned the basics of hacking from a computer expert so I would at least understand half of the dialogue in the movie."

"This is very laudable," Chase allowed. "Unfortunately, my work keeps me from watching movies."

"A pity. But maybe you'll watch one of my flicks one day. Tina knows all of my movies by heart now."

This was Chase's cue. "Is it hard for you as a celebrity couple to keep your privacy?"

"It works. We're both travelling most of the time and see each other far too seldom. I was glad to receive the invitation to this station, giving us a few days of holiday together," Ashton replied. "I don't care about Mr Saunders and his paranoia, but his space station is very comfortable."

"So it doesn't bother you that Miss Atlantis won't marry because of Mr Saunders?" the young inquisitor prodded.

"Of course it does. Have you spoken with Tina about this? Then you know how I think about this. But it's Tina's decision. I'll wait until she says yes, no matter how long it'll take." The young actor regarded Chase inquiringly. "Are you married, Father? As far as I know, you Church allows it."

"Yes, it's allowed, but I'm not married. I've taken a vow of celibacy," Chase answered. "My work doesn't mix well with the duties of caring for a family, and I would always neglect one or the other." He didn't even have to lie about this.

"Well, then you don't know how it feels like to be so in love that nothing matters anymore than making the beloved person happy. So I can't complain." Ashton accelerated the treadmill's speed. 

Once again, Chase didn't now what to make of this. Arezzo was a praised actor and had won various awards. How could anyone know if he was telling the truth? The young inquisitor was still resolved only to trust himself in this investigation. The only two people he could fimrly rule out as possible culprits were himself and Carl Saunders.

This surely didn't count as progress after two days of investigating.

 

The Father took the time until dinner to add more notes to his pool of information. Although it was growing steadily, he still didn't know what of it was reliable. 

The main problem was simply that he was investigating a murder that hadn't happened yet. There were no pieces of evidence, no finger prints, no alibis. Maybe some of the guests were plotting the murder together. Maybe all of them were planning something without knowing the others' plans. And maybe nothing would happen.

Chase took another cup of coffee and gazed out of his windows into the infinity of space. Maybe he should pray and ask for enlightenment.   
Chase had always found inner peace and calm in the familiar words of a prayer, but today it wasn't working. There was too much going on inside his mind that couldn't be pushed aside.

Taking a deep breath, Chase looked once again at the projection on the wall. Once after another, he let the pictures of the people present appear.  
Who of them was truly capable of murder? Who had the most advantage of Saunders' death? And who had lied to him to cover this up?

Chase had never felt so out of his depth. He thought himself a good judge of character, and his successes in revealing criminals had proved him right so far. But this situation was something entirely different.

Or was it? The young Father realized that he had been staring at a certain picture for minutes now.

Tyler Derringford. 

Chase rubbed at his eyes. So far his private life had never interfered with his work, but this young man was robbing him of his equilibrium. It wasn't just his distracting appearance, but the whole demeanor made Chase uneasy. He was sure that Tyler had as much to hide as the rest of the guests and was as likely a suspect as any of them. 

Nevertheless – there was something behind those artificial green eyes, something behind the cool façade… Chase didn't believe that it was just the accident that turned a sheltered child into a cynical youth. A near death experience changed a person, no doubt, but that wasn't all. Tyler had seen death, that much was clear. But maybe not just as a victim…

The young inquisitor had no idea where that thought came from, but it felt right. However, there was no chance to persue it any further since he was interrupted by a knock on his door. Chase got up from his desk and opened the door.

It was Tyler. He had switched his relatively tame outfit he had worn at lunch against a daring combination of shining black overknee boots and pants with lots of buckles and a tight top with sleeves made of mesh matching the color of his eyes.

"Am I disturbing you, Father?" he asked.

"Of course not. What can I do for you?" Chase replied.

"I thought it was the other way around. You wanted to interrogate me." Tyler pushed himself past Chase and stepped into the room. 

The young inquisitor expected to smell an expensive aftershave, but there was only the smell of standardized soap available in the station's showers – and something faintly metallic that he couldn't place. The next moment Chase was sure he had imagined it and caught himself staring again. Quickly, he gestured toward the sitting area. "Please take a seat."

But Tyler just walked over to the desk and leaned himself against it. "Interesting," he commented on the projection on the wall showing his picture.

"You can help me filling the blank space underneath the picture." Chase suppressed a blush. What was wrong with him?

Tyler smirked. "Let's try. As I said, I don't have a personal grudge against Saunders. Father's firm had been making severe losses for some time, and I don't have any interest in taking over. Father had always wanted me to become a manager, and for a time, it was tempting. But not anymore."  
"So what do you want to do now?" Chase asked.

"I don't know yet. I want to travel for a while and eventually return to the UN. Must people always have a fixed goal?"

"Probably not. But I still don't know why you're here."

"Father, as I said: Saunders is a generous host, and this station is interesting. It's just the first step on my journey." Tyler pushed himself away from the desk and took a few steps toward the young inquisitor. His voice was softer now. "When you have looked into the eyes of death, like I have, you start to cherish every moment. Because you'll never know if it might be your last."

Chase forced himself not to hear any invitation in these words, but Tyler's half-lidded gaze and the way he provokingly pushed out a hip was as obvious as it got.

"You're right, of course. Such an event can shift priorities forever. What does your father think about this?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I haven't seen him for years. Since I made clear that I don't have any interest in the business, the old man ignores me. He never even visited me at the clinic. I guess he doesn't care anymore if I live or die since I don't have any use for him." These words held a lot of bitterness.

Chase could relate. Even after all these years he was still missing his own father who had dropped him at the orphanage as a toddler, but he knew that the man hadn't probably had a choice. A wealthy man abandoning his son, however, was a sad thing.

"But why would Saunders suspect you then? He seemed to be fairly good informed about each of the guests," Chase returned to topic.

"I asked for this invitation, and that was reason enough. Saunders is paranoid, if you haven't noticed yet. It's likely that there is no one on board this station at all who wants to harm him. Have you ever though of that?"

Tyler put into words what Chase had been considering already. But he had to fulfill his task no matter what.

"Of course. But if there's an assassin here, I have to find them. It's better to be too careful than to be too careless," Chase replied. "Mr. Derringford, do you…?"

"It's Ty, remember?" the young man interrupted him and took a few steps closer until they were almost touching. 

The Father could now see every detail of the nano tattoo snaking down the right side of Tyler's face and framing his eye. The abstract, vine-like pattern continued the natural arch of the eyebrow and strengthened the ironic expression.

"Why don't we change the topic for a while? The murderer-to-be can't escape you, can they?"

"Right. But w…" That was as far as Chase got when Tyler suddenly grabbed him and pulled his head down with surprising strength. A second later, the young inquisitor got the most passionate kiss of his entire life. He couldn't help but returning it and pulling the young man closer. Tyler's top left the hip bones bare, and Chase touched the naked skin like he had wanted since the first time he had laid eyes on Tyler. There it was again, this faintly metallic smell and taste, but it didn't bother Chase in the least. For about ten seconds, he didn't care about anything at all.

But then his brain started working again. Forcefully, he pushed Tyler away who let go of him immediately.

"Mr. Derringford, this is absolutely improper," he said with a surprisingly firm voice. "I have to warn you not to repeat such intolerable actions. Activities like this are punishable by Church law, and I am a Father."

"I'm sorry." Tyler didn't sound sorry in the least. "But it takes to two to kiss, you know. If you have put your official outrage behind you, you know where to find me." With a knowing smile, Tyler left the room.

It Chase a few moments to get his breath back, and he decided that he needed a very, very cold shower. But the memory of Tyler's unique taste on his lips and softness of the cool skin under his fingers wouldn't be washed away that easily.

Dinner went by rather quietly. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts, and even Atlantis' chatter was tuned down. There was something in the air, but Chase couldn't put his finger on it. Everyone seemed to wait for something.

Kelly excused herself rather early, as well as the supervisory board members. Shaziri, a bit sobered up, retreated with Veronica into the parlor for a chess match, while Atlantis, Ashton, and Tyler decided to test the ball room's music equipment.

Chase excused himself as well and decided to swim a few more undisturbed laps in the pool. The cold shower hadn't really helped, and he needed some more exercise. 

About an hour later, he returned to his quarters and once again started to work on his notes. The next morning, he would have to have a long talk with Saunders to fill some gaps. There were still too much pieces missing in this puzzle – or, more precisely, it wasn't even clear if all the pieces belonged to just one puzzle. Chase sent a quick message to Kelly to ask her for an appointment, then he decided to go to sleep. Although there was some much on his mind, he fell asleep quickly.

To be continued...


	13. Interlude III - Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master Shimada smiled coldly. "You're too slow. I think you have to clean the traning hall for four weeks and not just two."  
> With a cry of rage, Tyrean propelled himself forward and grabbed Shimada's sleeve - for a split second. But the teacher evaded him again - and then fought back.

Interlude 3 – Training

~ Secret Headquarters of the Luna Mortis, somewhere in Eden City, AD 2662 ~

Tyrean really couldn't say that he didn't like the training. On the contrary: it filled him with pride and satisfaction to become better with every hour, every day.  
The problem wasn't the training. It was him having weak partners.

"Tyrean, you're not supposed to kill him! This is training!" his Martial Arts teacher, a gray-haired, wiry veteran barked at him. Master Shimada's tone was always gruff, but this time he seemed truly angry. "I've told you a hundred times that there is a difference between training and a real fight! As long as you're not able to control your strength in training, it won't serve you properly in a real fight!"

"Yes, Master," Tyrean murmured and backed away from his training partner who was lying on the floor, blue-faced and gasping for air. It was common for the winner to help the defeated back on his feet, but Tyrean didn't think of it. All he felt was distate for the other boy's weakness. What did the Luna Mortis want with such weaklings? None of them were a match for him.

Master Shimada wasn't satisfied in the least. "You are banned from training for the next two weeks!" he barked. "All you're going to do in the training hall is to sort the weapons and clean the floor. During that time you can think about my words."

"No, damn it!" Tyrean, about to leave for the locker rooms with a cool face, angrily turned toward his teacher. "For thirteen years I've scrubbed floors for the Church and their hypcritical bootlickers and listened to their sermons, and if you start with this as well, the Luna Mortis isn't an inch better than that old, gutless bastards' club!"

Deathly silence reigned in the training hall. Everyone of the other pupils either training unarmed combat or fighting with melee wapons, stopped and stared at Tyrean and master Shimada. All of them knew how roughly Tyrean treated his partners or that he fought with his teachers. But no one had ever dared to curse at master Shimada and insult the Luna Mortis on top of it.

The old Martial Arts teacher looked at his pupil, his face unreadable - a sure sign of real danger.

"Well, as you wish. If you don't want to scrub the floor, I'll scrub it with your miserable hide," he declared, his tone even and deceptively peaceful. "Show me what you've learned, pup."

Tyrean needn't be told twice. He would show Master Shimada what he was capable of. With a move as fast as lightning, he rolled over the mat and took a swing at Shimada's legs.

But the old man had seen this coming and evaded the attack with almost unnatural ease. The next few minutes, Tyrean only hit empty air, and it made him angrier with every miss.

Master Shimada smiled coldly. "You're too slow. I think you have to clean the traning hall for four weeks and not just two."

With a cry of rage, Tyrean propelled himself forward and grabbed Shimada's sleeve - for a split second. But the teacher evaded him again - and then fought back.

Ten seconds later, Tyrean realized that he was indeed too slow and still a pathetic amateur compared to Shimada. He found himself lying face down on the hard floor next to the mat, feeling a foot standing on his neck and both his arms twisted painfully backwards. He could barely breathe.

"Now, Tyrean, we start from the beginning," Shimada said almost amiably. "You are the pupil, and I am the teacher, so you do what I tell you. If you ever hurt one of your partners again, I'll get really angry. And if you ever dare to curse at me or speak disrespectfully of our organization again, I'll break both your arms, go to the hospital ward and put the bone stabilisator into the garbage chute so you'll be a helpless baby for the next month. Do I make myself clear? Answer!"

"Yes... Master," Tyrean croaked. "I... understand. But... I won't... clean that damn ...training hall!"

"I guess you're right," Shimada answered. 

The next second, the sound of bones breaking echoed through the room. The only reason Tyrean didn't scream was because he had no air left.

 

The old master kept his word. Tyrean didn't just had to clean the training hall, but the complete shooting range and the obstacle parcours as well. He worked his punishment off without a word, but his face held such a dark, hostile expression that no one dared to make any jokes. 

Four weeks later, Shimada caught Tyrean in the training hall. "Listen up. I hope that you've learned your lesson. We aren't the Church, and we keep our word. If I promise punishment, you'll get it. And if I promise you stronger partners to train with from now on, I'll stick to it as well. You'll join my advanced class if you promise to work on your control. Anger is your enemy, Tyrean. Emotions don't belong in a fight. You have to keep a cool head, then you'll be an extraordinary agent one day. But my advanced class is no picknick, and those arms won't be the last bones you'll break in training. Are you up to it?"

Tyrean looked down at his arms, both of them still swollen and aching. He had checked himself out of the medical ward after just three days, grabbed some painkillers and grit his teeth. The worried medics demanded he'd return to checkup to see if the bones mended properly, although he had been scrubbing floors for the last weeks.

Finally, Tyrean lifted his eyes up to Shimada. "You promised I'd be helpless, master. As you can see, I'm not. I'll take whatever you dish out."

Something strange, maybe worry, flitted across Shimada's stoic face. "You're crazy, that's what you are. No run off to the medical ward; they didn't really throw that bone stabilisator away, they just didn't use it on you on my order. Tomorrow, we'll start with the real training."

A wolfish grin spread on Tyrean's face. Finally he would get what he wanted.

 

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 6 - Protocol Sunflare Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have very bad news for you," the inquisitor began without further ado. "Carl Saunders was murdered an hour ago."

~Carl Saunders' private chambers, orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 7th, AD 2667, 1:00 hrs in the morning ~

"What the heck is going on?"

Kelly, wearing pyjamas and a nightgown, hastily exited the lift. Darkness greeted her. She had been woken by the emergency signal five minutes ago and had come to the station's highest level as quickly as possible. Here, the corridor was dark due to night operation, and she could only make out the silhouettes of the security droids at the door. Kelly reached for the manual light switch.

The sudden light revealed two completely still, hunched droids. There was no sign of energy. They had been shut down.

The young woman fought the sudden surge of panic inside her down and took a few steps toward the door. The code lock next to it was shut down as well, and the door was cracked open.

"Grandfather? Are you alright?" Kelly carefully entered the semi-dark office that was only illuminated by the slowly rotating, blue orb that was earth outside the window. Her grandfather never slept much, and even now she saw his wheel chair behind the desk. Heart wildly beating, she approached it. "Grandfather?"

Carl Saunders wasn't sitting in the wheel chair, however. He was lying on the floor behind his desk, eyes wide open. His hand had clamped down on the signal device that had called Kelly. And in his chest stuck an antique paper knife that had always been lying on his desk. Kelly rememberd how Saunders had told her once that this paper knife reminded him of inevitable progress. Letters made of paper had been complete replaced by electronic mail over four hundred years ago.

She didn't know why her shocked mind just now decided to recall that memory. Hands shaking, she bent down to close those horribly staring eyes. Then she pulled herself together and turned towards the computer on the desk. 

Father Holloway. She had to inform him immediately and tell him everything.

Kelly never got the chance to even touch the keyboard. Suddenly, a dark shape appeared before her. Horrified, she recognized who it was, but there was no time to run away or even scream. The figure grabbed her and threw her against the desk. With a dull crack, the back of Kelly's head collided with the solid wood.

The figure ran away.

~°~

Chase was abruptly woken by an incessant beeping noise. For a few moments, he felt disoriented, then he noted a message blinking on his computer screen across the room. It was a warning message from the emitter Kelly was wearing. Obviously, her body functions had sunken to a critival level.   
The young inquisitor didn't lose any time. He jumped out of bed and let the computer show him Kelly's current postion. Then he grabbed a shirt - thankfully he had been sleeping in training pants - and his keycard and stormed out of his room. 

The sight of the deactivated security droids and the open door let Chase fear the worst when he arrived at the top floor. He ran into the office and found Kelly unconscious next to the desk. Her hair was wet with blood, and she was barely breathing. 

"By the Light, no!" Chase whispered und knelt down beside her to feel her pulse. It was weak. He risked a look behind the desk and wasn't surprised to see Saunders' body. 

But the living had priority. Carefully, Chase lifted Kelly from the floor and carried her into the adjacent bedroom. There, he put her down on the bed and ordered the domestic droid that was lurking on stand-by in a corner to search for medical supplies.

A few moment later, he had everything he needed, thankful for the fact that old Saunders had already taken precautions for the time when he might be permantently bedridden. The father wasn't a physician, but he knew the basics of medical treatment. He started by putting a bandage around the head to stop the bleeding, then he connected Kelly to a life support machine to stabilize her. Thankfully, there was even a little neuro scanner available that he put on her forehead. It told him after a few moments with a tinny voice that Kelly suffered from a severe head trauma and advised to take her to a hospital immediately. 

This was of course impossible. Chase cursed again. He needed to contact earth immediately to order a shuttle transport. Quickly, he returned to Saunders' office to send the message. But the computer denied access.

Instead, only three words, written in glaring red, were visible on the screen: "Protocol Sunflare activated."

The young Father had no idea what that meant, but this wasn't the time to find out. He had to return to his own quarters and contact Earth from there.  
After horribly long seconds, the lift had reached the 7th level where his room was located. But his own screen showed the very same message, and although Chase was able to use his own research data, the camera surveillance functions, and a few other things, contact with Earth was impossible. every time he tried, the ominious words returned: "Protocol Sunflare activated."

In his frustration, Chase hammered his fingers on the keyboard, tried and retried the scan of his keycard, but it was useless. Somehow, a strange subroutine had taken over the station's computer system. A virus?

Or had this subroutine activated itself with Saunders' death?

The young inquisitor gave up. He was no computer expert, and he needed to inform all the guests aboard the station. Saunders' death and Kelly's incapacitation had left him in charge now. And he had to find the killer.

Quickly, Chase dressed himself and then used the still-functioning intercom to tell everyone to meet him in the parlor immediately.

As soon as he had switched off the intercom, a new message appeared on his screen: "Personal message from Carl Saunders to Father Holloway." 

Moments later, a video started. Carl Saunders was spaking calmly into the camera.

"Father, if you see this, it means that the assassin was successful in killing me. You just found out and contacted the others via intercom. Now listen closely: my death activated a subroutine in the system. As you've probably already found out, Protocol Sunflare permits any contact to Earth. You can't call for help, but on the other hand, the killer won't get away. The subroutine also activated the station's engines. The auto-piloted navigation systems are driving Sanctuary 24 with maximum speed toward the direction of the sun. In exactly seven days, the station with burn up in the sun's corona. Access to the navigation system is denied as well, and there is absolutely nothing that can interfere with the protocol.

Now to you, Father. You have to find my killer. Find evidence, get a confession. If you have those, the computer will give Kelly access to the navigation system, and she can reroute the station back to Earth. And don't even think about faking any evidence. Protocol Sunflare is connected to a highly intelligent AI, one of my firm's prototypes. If the AI finds holes in your chain of evidence, it won't give access to the navigation systems. Good luck, Father. I know you'll find my murderer in time." Saunders' austere face went soft for a moment. "And please relay two personal messages. Tell Kelly that I was wrong about her boyfriend. And tell Veronica that I never stopped loving her."

The screen went dark for a moment, and then the already familiar message appeared in red letters. Beneath it, a countdown appeared. There were six days and 23 hours left of the seven days. 

Chase didn't lose another minute. He grabbed the case with his forensic tools - which he had hoped he wouldn't need - and left his quarters.

 

The other guests were already in the parlor and looked at Chase with disquieted faces. All of them had gotten themselves dressed more or less hasty, and he took a moment to file away their state: Veronica, Shaziri, and Atlantis were wearing dressing gowns, Ashton black pyjamas. Villiers and Karakova were wearing suits, collars slightly crumpled, Villiers' tie a bit crooked, as if hastily knotted. Tyler's nightly outfit consisted of a tight black t-shirt and sweatpants. All of them had slightly mussed hair, and none of the women had applied any makeup. Atlantis still looked like she was rouged, but Chase decided this was the effect of some permanent makeup and the general state of her face. Tyler's face also looked rather different without makeup, but the young Father had no time to contemplate what was making the difference. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have very bad news for you," the inquisitor began without further ado. "Carl Saunders was murdered an hour ago. Miss Kelly came to help him, and the killer injured her. She is unconscious and can't tell us what happened."

As he said this, Chase studied the reactions of all the guests very closely. Veronica paled and held her hand to her mouth. Mrs. Karakova and Mr. Villiers began to speak under their breaths nervously. Atlantis pressed her face to Ashton's shoulder who whispered comforting words to her. Shaziri just shook his head and seemed his fears to have gotten confirmed. 

Just Tyler kept his cool. "How serious are Miss Saunders' injuries?" he asked.

"She took a severe blow to her head," Chase answered. "I did what I could for her, but she needs competent medical attention. And this leads to our next problem: We can't call for help." In a few words, he told the attendees about Saunders' last message and the countdown.

Chaos broke out almost immediately. Everyone started shouting in disbelief, horror, and anger and besieged Chase to do something about it. He couldn't get a word in between until Shaziri of all people silenced everyone with a sharp, "Be quiet, damnit! The boy can't help us if we don't let him! Now, Father, what are you gonna do?"

"Thanks, Mr. Shaziri. Please have a seat, ladies and gentlemen," Chase suggested. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do, and if we all work together, we'll get out of this alive."

After everyone had taken a seat, he continued, "At first, I'd like to know if anyone of you has medical knowledge that isn't noted in their personal files? We can't shut down the subroutine without Kelly, so it is a priority that she regains consciousness."

"I studied medical science for a few semesters until I switched to business economics," Natalia Karakova spoke up. "But I can't promise anything."

"Very well. I'm going to search the crime scene to secure any evidence." Chase looked around. "You can rest assured that I'll find the culprit. This station has camera surveillance, and if any of you has to say something, now would be the time. With a full confession, they can't just save their own life, but that of all of us on this space station. I promise them safe containment and a fair trial, taking into account their confession."

Everyone stayed silent, faces taut. There was no traitorous flinch.

"As you wish. Mrs. Karakova, please come with me. The others stay in this room. Nobody goes anywhere until I return."

Ignoring any protests, Chase left the parlor with Natalia Karakova.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the real fun has started! I hope I caught you guys at least a bit unexpecting...


	15. Chapter 6 - Protocol Sunflare Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase also gave last rites to Carl Saunders so that the man's soul would find its way into the Light. A last confession hadn't been possible, but Saunders would surely find grace since he had been a life-long follower and supporter of the Church - even if he hadn't been the most virtuous of men.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do," she told him fifteen minutes later. Mrs. Karakova had reprogrammed the medical scanners and injected Kelly a restorative drug. Chase had never taken his eyes off what she was doing.

"Do you think it possible that she'll awake on her own?" he asked.

“It is possible, but very unlikely. As far as I’m concerned, we can only keep her stabilized until we’ll get professional help.”

“And that’s something we can’t get without Kelly.” He took a deep breath. “Thanks for your help, Mrs. Karakova. Please return to the parlor. I’ll tell the others, so no detours, please.”

The blond woman shook her head. “Father, I know that you have to suspect everyone present, but even the killer couldn’t have known about Saunders’ trap. I think we all have to work together, as you said.”

Chase could only hope that the others agreed as well. 

He returned to Saunders’ office to contact the parlor via the intercom, then he started his investigation of the scene of crime. It was clear how Saunders had been killed, so the next step was to look for prints on the paper knife. Chase had a micro scanner for just this purpose that could also analyze and compare tiny particles like hair or blood.

As it turned out, there was only one set of prints on the knife: those of Saunders himself. The culprit had been wearing gloves. The desk and its surroundings didn’t have any strange traces - except for the bloody imprint of Kelly’s head at the side of the desk and her keycard lying on the floor. 

Chase took it and silently debated with himself whether the girl had seen the killer. It was clear that she had come to look after her grandfather and thus barred the killer’s only way back – the lift. Kelly’s fingerprints on her grandfather’s eyelids confirmed this theory. Her having anything to do with the murder seemed completely unlikely now - who else but the real killer would have attacked her, and why?

A more promising lead than the scene of crime should be provided by the technical details. The young father took a good look at the droids. Kelly had told him that these mechanicals guards could neither be destroyed by normal EMP weapons nor get hacked. Despite that, they looked as if an electromagnetic pulse had fried their processors. Chase was no technical expert on this matter, so he had to ask one of the guests later.

His most important lead, however, was the video surveillance of the station. The culprit must have revealed themself by leaving their quarters, using the lift, and walking down the hallway toward Saunders’ office. 

Chase’s heart was beating a little faster as he used Saunders’ computer to check the video feed during the timeframe of the murder.

“No way!” he murmured in disbelief. The cameras were showing an empty hallway and an empty lift during the whole night. The father fast-forwarded to the moment where he had left his rooms himself, but there was still nothing. A feverish search showed that the last correct records were made in the late evening when the last guests returned to their quarters.

Now there was the question of whom being able to manipulate such a security system. As paranoid as Saunders had been, he had surely bought only state of the art. There was of course Kelly, because she had official access. Had someone coerced her, and if so, who had done it? But hadn't Kelly said that her emitter protected her from such a thing? Had she been lying?

And there was also Shaziri, head of a high tech firm himself, as well as the supervisory board members. And hadn’t Ashton said something about having learned to hack for a movie role? The list of suspects was long enough.

Fact was that the murder was well planned. The cameras were manipulated and the droids somehow disabled, as well as the security lock with the retina scanner on Saunders’ door. Managing this, Kelly had to cooperate – or someone with extraordinary technical knowledge was needed. A knowledge that was beyond anything that could be learned legally.

Chase also knew that it was virtually impossible to hack a retina scanner. A simple copy of a person’s retina wasn’t enough anymore since that device had been invented in the 20th century. Nowadays, scanners not only scanned the retina pattern itself, but also the living tissue behind it. A cloned eye wasn’t enough; the retina had to be connected to a living organism.

This was the starting point that the young inquisitor needed. One of the resident guests had a modified retina pattern, and that was a track that couldn’t be covered.

 

The young inquisitor put a laser perimeter and a stasis field around Saunders' body and the desk to secure the scene of crime and keep the body from deteriorating. He also wanted to know if anyone tried to use Saunders' computer. 

Chase also gave last rites to Carl Saunders so that the man's soul would find its way into the Light. A last confession hadn't been possible, but Saunders would surely find grace since he had been a life-long follower and supporter of the Church - even if he hadn't been the most virtuous of men.

After he had checked Kelly's vital signs and found that she was breathing more deeply, he returned to the parlor. All the guests wanted to know immediately what he had found out, but Chase kept quiet for the moment.

"First, I need a retina scan from everyone of you," he declared. "Please let me scan both your eyes, and then we might have a few more important facts at hand."

Everyone agreed. As it turned out, Veronica, Shaziri, Villiers, Karakova, and Arezzo all had retina patterns very different from those of Kelly or Saunders and could be ruled out instantly. Atlantis had to remove her colored contact lenses after Chase had noticed that they were irritating the scanner. This was, however, another possibility he hadn't thought of. Was it possible to grow contact lenses out of organic material which could fool the scanner? But whom could he ask? 

For the moment, Chase ordered Atlantis to give him all of her colored contacts and also took Laurent Villiers' old–fashioned glasses. Those, the businessman told him, weren't for show since he was allergic to contacts and didn't want to be operated to correct his eyesight.

Tyler's scan turned out to be the most interesting. Contrary to Chase's initial belief, he wasn't wearing contact lenses like the model, but had artificially tinted irises. The reason for this Tyler explained willingly. 

"During the accident, my right eye was damaged and had to be fixed with a medimplant to compensate for the lack of sight. This implant made the iris look unnaturally green, and I can't put a contact lens on top of it. I decided to let the other eye get colored in the same tone to make them match again. All of this had some interesting side effects, however. You'll see in a moment."

Chase now understood the asymmetrical vine pattern of the tattoo to be more than pure decoration. He hadn't noticed before because the tattoo had distracted him from it, but at very close range, the iris and pupil of Tyler's right eye had unnaturally sharp outlines. With a magnifier, Chase could even see the tiny electronic parts whirring about to make the eye focus. Since the eye was artificial, there was of course no retina pattern left. 

The left eye, however, didn't work on the scanner either because of the coloring. Chase wouldn't have believed that such a simple thing would be enough to confuse the retina scanner, but it was true. 

"Does that mean that you can't use a retina scanner at all anymore?" he asked Tyler.

"Only very old ones that are based on another system, but none of the current ones," he confirmed. "Miss Saunders had to permanently bypass the scanner at my door to allow me entrance."

That left Chase with the unlikely theories of either Kelly helping the assassin or some yet unknown way to fool the retina scanner. None of it was helpful at the moment since he couldn't ask Kelly and firmly believed any device capable of doing this to be long gone down the waste disposal. The killer had proved to be clever. He or she wouldn't let something like this lie around.

The young inquisitor finally decided to send everyone back to their beds. It was still in the middle of the night according to earth time, and there was nothing to be done at the moment.

The countdown, however, continued inexorably.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating whether I should stop posting this story here. I'm not the type to beg for reviews, but I didn't get a single one since I started posting this, not even a critical comment like "your writing sucks and I don't like the story", and it's making me a little sad. If it wasn't for the kudos; I'd think that nobody is reading this at all.


	16. Chapter 7 - Progress Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Bullshit," Sharizi grumbled and knocked his knuckles against one of the droid's armor.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 7th, AD 2667, later that morning – 6 ½ days left ~

Chase didn't manage to sleep very well and got up a few hours later to continue to work on the case. Quickly, he filled his little data base with the nightly events; looking at it was a nice change to the ominous countdown showing on all screens. 

But all the new information opened up new questions. Chase decided to begin by examining Atlantis' contact lenses and Villiers' glasses, but it quickly turned out that they were exactly what they looked like and by no means secret devices to fool retina scanners. Since this possibility was now ruled out, all that was left was the fact that Kelly must have helped the murderer.

After a few cups of coffee and a hasty breakfast, the young inquisitor checked up on her. Kelly's vital signs were stabile, the bandage around her head was not soaked with blood, and her pale face seemed to have regained some color. Chase changed the drip bottle with nutrient solution that Mrs. Karakova had applied and then took the young woman's cold hand.

"Kelly, if you can hear me: we need you. You have to come back to us and tell us what happened last night," he murmured. "All our lives depend on it."  
Kelly didn't move, but Chase hadn't expected any reaction. He added a short prayer to beg the Light for its mercy on the girl. Then he let go of her and returned to Saunders' office.

Since the security lock had been hacked, the door was standing open and couldn't be closed again. The young father once again took a look at the destroyed droids and thought about the hacked cameras. 

A moment later, the lift opened behind him.

"A damn mess, that's what all of this is," Shaziri declared. Looking sober for a change, he exited the lift. Tyler followed him. "Listen, you need help. I know that you're suspecting everyone at the moment, but I'm going to stick out my neck by helping you with the technical details. I know the security systems that old Carl used."

Chase hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded. "Alright." He looked at Tyler. "And you?"

The young man shrugged. Chase noticed that he was dressed rather tamely today in a black catsuit and high boots. "I learned to program while I was preparing to take over my dad's firm. Mr. Shaziri is certainly more of an expert, but I might have a few ideas. Or are you against it?"  
Chase indeed had, but he needed the help. Maybe it was a good idea to remind himself that there was a corpse lying on the floor a few steps away from them to prevent any indecent thoughts.

"Well, I see four problems," Chase began assessing the situation. "First, Kelly seems to have opened the door for the murderer since nobody else on this station has the right retina pattern - or maybe there is a way to fool the scanner after all. Second, the electronic lock was hacked and not opened by a code. Third, the cameras were hacked as well to show empty corridors during the whole night. And fourth, the security droids were deactivated although they are safe from being hacked or blasted by an EMP according to Kelly."

"Bullshit," Sharizi grumbled and knocked his knuckles against one of the droid's armor. "Nothing is truly safe from EMPs except for implant that are covered by living skin. Those guys here have a good, solid carbid covering that can withstand normal EMP blasts, so-called first grade EMPs, sure. But they are defenseless against second grade weapons. Years ago, I built second grade weapons for military use and fried droids like these for demonstration. Yes, yes, I know, I'm making myself suspicious by saying this. But since I don't have Carl's death on my conscience, I couldn't care less," he huffed. Then he took a look at the lock. "This wasn't hacked. It was the same weapon."

"A second grade EMP weapon then. But aren't those too big to hide?" Chase asked. 

Shaziri shook his head. "No. The newest prototypes are just as big as a normal handgun. Someone must have smuggled one aboard. But the devil knows where they got it. I'm not producing those weapons anymore, and there's just one other firm in the UN with the necessary knowledge and the exclusive right to deliever weapons to the military. A private person shouldn't be able get their hands on such a weapon at all, even with a lot of money and contacts to the black market."

This also meant that the scanner at the entrance to the space station hadn't noticed a weapon among the guests' luggage. But Chase didn't have the time to think about this. All he knew that there was a very dangerous weapon aboard that could destroy any electronic system. He had to search all of the quarters - although a clever murderer - and this one was clever - would have put that thing into the garbage disposal immediately.   
"This explains two things," he said. "What about the cameras?"

This time it was Tyler who answered. "There is no remote access possible to this system, so I think someone used one of the computers that already had access to the surveillance systems."

Sharizi grumbled in agreement. "This means Saunders' computer on his desk and the one at the main control center, I think. Or did Kelly have access from her quarters as well?"

"No. But she allowed access from my computer," the father said. "Since Saunders practically never moved from his desk, this one can be ruled out. And since the surveillance was intact until right before the murder and I was at my quarters then, it can't be that as well. But could have someone broken into the main control center?"

"You two go and find out," Shaziri suggested. "I'll rest my old bones. The main control is located inside one of the station's wings at the base, and as far as I know, the lift only goes down as far as the level below the entrance hall. Carl used to rub the blueprints for this station into my face at every opportunity. "

"Thank you for you help," Chase thanked him. "But I have one question left about the retina scanner."

"Not my forte, but I'm sure that old Carl had state of the art stuff. And those scanners are safe because you can't fool them. If no one else has a pattern that fits, then it must have been Kelly."

But that didn't sound right. Why would Kelly help the murderer? And if she had done so, why hadn't she opened the door with her code? And why had the assassin attacked her? None of these questions would be easily answered. 

The three men took the lift downstairs, and Shaziri exited on the level to go to the dining room. Kelly's keycard allowed Chase and Tyler access to the station's lowest level. It was mainly a huge storage room where everything a dozen people needed was stored: food, drinks, hygienic goods, cleaning tools, a washing machine, and a few repair tools and spare parts. Next to the lift was a hatch made of carbid in the floor, secured with another code lock. This was however, intact, and asked for a keycard and a combination code with a steady blink.

"It doesn't look like anyone broke into it," Chase noted. "But we have to make sure. If Kelly doesn't regain consciousness, we have to access the AI down there to give it the evidence we find."

"And if you don't find the culprit in time or there is no evidence to be found, we have to get down there even more urgently," Tyler completed the line of thought and looked at Chase. "I trust you to find the murderer, but I wouldn't bet on the AI really giving back control over the navigational systems. And we should try to break through the subroutine as least as far as getting back communication with earth."

This was a sensible suggestion. "The question is how we get down there. I do have Kelly's keycard, but we still don't know the code."

Tyler knelt down to have a closer look at the lock. "I think I have an idea, but it could take a while."

To be continued...


	17. Chapter 7 - Progress Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "By the Light, are you crazy?" Chase hollered. "Ten meters, I said! Tyler! Tyler, are you alright?"  
> There was no answer. Chase suddely had a horrible vision of a shattered body on the control center's floor. Had he just been witness to a suicide out of guilt?

Chase nodded, and Tyler got up to search for some tools he needed. Then he started to carefully unscrew the fastenings of the lock's covering plate.  
"So", Tyler said conversationally, not taking his eyes off his work. "Since we're stuck here for a while, why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? You already know my story. Why did you become a father?"

"I wanted to serve the Church all my life," Chase answered truthfully. 

"I guess your parents must be very proud." Was there a sarcastic undertone in Tyler's smooth voice? No wonder, since he had been shunned by his own father.

"I don't have any parents left," Chase replied. "I grew up in an orphanage in Eden City."

"You didn't get adopted?"

"No. Children above a certain age were almost never adopted, and I was left there at age four." There was still a lingering, old pain in his heart whenever he thought of his childhood - the forgotten face of his father, the endless days filled with chores and taking care of smaller children, the lost, sad look in a little boy's eyes...

"Something the matter?" Tyler had stopped his work, regarding the young father carefully. "Sad memories?"

"It's nothing," Chase replied quickly. "Did you manage to get the lock open?"

"Almost." Tyler pulled off the covering plate and took a look at the electronics underneath. "I need Miss Saunders' keycard."

Chase hesitated for a moment, then he crouched down next to Tyler and handed him the card, not leaving it out of sight for an instant.

The young man took it and put it into the small slit. Immediately, little orange lights began to blink rather hectically. Tyler held the sharp end of a tool against a tiny, barely noticable contact and quickly typed a long number-combination on the numeric keypad. The orange light changed to green, and with a hissing sound, the hatch opened. 

"You do know that this action just made you highly suspicious?" Chase told him with raised eyebrows. 

"Please, Father. The culprit used a second grade weapon and doesn't need to circumvent a lock. This was also far easier than I thought," Tyler replied and stood up. "Maybe Saunders' security system isn't as good as we think. He left the breaker contacts on factory setting, and guess whose firm produced those locks until it was swallowed up by Saunders?"

Chase understood. "Your father's firm?"

Tyler smirked. "Exactly. Now let's get down there."

They looked down the narrow, dimly-lit chute, noticing that it bent off diagonally a few meters down. There was a warning sign on the inside wall: "Mind the gravity shift! Do not jump down! Danger of life!"

"We need a ladder. It seems that the artificial gravity is adapted to the laterally located room that would make us fall around the corner. Why hasn't a ladder extended automatically?"

Tyler had the decency to look contrite for a moment. "I guess it would have if I hadn't used the breaker contacts. But there's surely a manual control down there to extent the ladder or to switch the gravity."

According to the station's layout, this chute is almost ten meters long," the father reminded him. "We can't just jump down there." He looked around to find something that could be useful. But there were only small ladders here, reaching barely two meters. 

When Chase turned back to the hatch, Tyler was gone. An instant later he heard a metallic, dulled noise.

"By the Light, are you crazy?" Chase hollered. "Ten meters, I said! Tyler! Tyler, are you alright?"

There was no answer. Chase suddely had a horrible vision of a shattered body on the control center's floor. Had he just been witness to a suicide out of guilt?

Then, suddenly, steady clicking sounds echoed through the chute. One after another, ladder spokes extended from the chute's wall. Chase pocketed Kelly's keycard and descended as quickly as possible. When the chute took a turn to the side, he suddenly experienced a strange, sickly vertigo as the artificial gravity pulled him sideways. A moment later, the feeling of up and down was corrected again. 

"You were actually worried about me, Chase," Tyler noted drily. He was standing at the base of the ladder in a circular control room that was stuffed to the ceiling with controlling panels and computer panels. But the young inquisitor's first interest lay in the nasty abrasions on Tyler's right upper arm and hip, undoubtedly stemming from crashing into the panels while rolling off. 

"What were you thinking, jumping down just like this? And why aren't you dead? You must have broken a dozen bones!" Chase attacked him although he was more relieved than angry. 

"I didn't want to stand around convincing you of the fact that I don't risk my life jumping down here." Tyler tapped his finger against a booted lower leg. "I have the same height-changing enhancements as Atlantis in my legs. If you know how to use them, fifteen centimeters of artificial bones recede and prevent any breaking."

"Height enhancements? Those are illegal for citizen of Eden City," Chase growled. "Is that why you didn't say anything and just told me of your medimplants?"

"You caught me." Tyler shrugged. "But we surely have more important problems at the moment."

"That's right. But please give me a warning the next time!" Chase took a deep breath. "And now let me take a look at your injuries."

"Just a few scratches," Tyler waved him off. "As I said, we have bigger problems right now."

"Stop arguing!" Chase took Tyler's arm and examined the abrasions. Several square centimeters of skin were gone, and deep cuts were visible underneath. A sharp-edged, now bloody corner of a panel right in line with the ladder had obviously been the cause. He looked at Tyler, wondering why the young man didn't show any signs of pain. This must hurt horribly. "Scratches? This must be looked after. Can you even climp up the ladder again?"

"Of course. Can you bandage it so that I don't leave blood everywhere? It's looking worse than it is."

"And your hip? Just be glad that you weren't wearing one of your other outfits," Chase grumbled while he took off his sash and bandaged Tyler's arm with it. There was still no pained reaction, and Chase decided that is was the shock. Tyler also just now seemed to realize the abrasion at his hip. 

Although it looked far less severe, he murmured, "Damn!"

Chase frowned at the curse, but decided not to comment on it. "Don't touch it," he ordered and tried to pull away Tyler's hand, but was roughly pushed away.

"It's nothing," Tyler repeated, calm and collected once more. "Now let's check this room and find a way to deactivate the AI."

But Chase was done. "We get back up there nice and slowly, and then Mrs. Karakova will look after your injuries. You are no help to me in this condition. I'm grateful that you cleared the way for me, but your health is more important."

"And there you are, worried again." Tyler's smile was derisive. "But as you wish, Father Holloway."

Then he turned around to climp up the ladder so quickly and easily as if he truly had nothing but a few scratches. 

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on holiday for the next few weeks. Updates will continue on September, 23rd.


	18. Interlude IV - Newborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jareen seemed to suppress a grin. "I guess the surgery didn't change your attitude. Too bad nobody invented a behavior implant yet," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: This chapter is about heavy body modification. I didn't thought it necessary to put a warning before, because the results are not really visible, but in this flashback chapter, it's different.

~ Secret Headquarters of the Luna Mortis, somewhere in Eden City, AD 2663 ~

Tyrean blinked. The anesthetics that had kept him unconscious during the last hours were slowly wearing off. The light above him was too bright, and the vision of his right eye was just a blur. There was a tiny writing in the lower right corner of his field of vision: "Setup progress by 23%. Please stand by."

Tyrean closed his eyes again, but the writing was still visible. The percentage was slowly increasing. It would take some time until the implant was fully operational. But he could find out if the other augmentations worked that had been implanted in the last hours.

Tyrean was lying flat on a medical bed, with nothing attached to his body, but even the simple and familiar movement of pushing himself up on his arms and then lifting his upper body just didn't work. He wasn't even able to lift his head. His whole body felt as if it was now twice as heavy as before. Tyrean caught himself grinning. Well, it actually was.

"What are you doing?" The doctor's face entered Tyrean's field of vision. Despite the blur, Tyrean noted that the man wasn't happy with him.   
"The implants have just booted and will take time to activate. You shouldn't try to move until then."

"And how long will it take?" Tyrean noticed that even talking was hard. His voice was sounding strange, somehow tinny. But this was normal, considering that the new implant in his vocal chords wasn't fully working yet either. 

"Don't talk yet," the doctor admonished him. "I want you to just lie still and concentrate on your breathing. I want to see how the flexisteel armor reacts. If you think it keeps you from breathing properly, just make a little sound."

It was no use. Tyrean took a deep breath and tried how it felt. It was a bit harder than before as if a weight was lying on his chest, but it wasn't uncomfortable or disturbing. He would get used to it soon. 

The doctor used a diagnostic device and murmured to himself. "This looks good," he finally declared. "But there are some readings I don't like. It might have something to do with the aftereffects of the anesthetics or the painkillers, but I'll better check again."

Tyrean kept himself from asking, although his impatience grew. The eye implant, at least, had increased to 48%. 

The doctor scanned him again and took a little blood to analyze it in the adjacent laboratory. After what seemed half an eternity, he returned and told Tyrean with a serious voice, "I'm afraid we have a problem. I just measured the percentage of allospecific antibodies, and it’s rapidly increasing. We're dealing with a hyperacute rejection."

Before Tyrean could say anything, the doctor continued, "You knew that this risk existed, but since you didn't want us to start with just one implant for testing purposes, we had no idea that you could be one of the few people allergic to them. Now it's just damage control. I'll give you a dosage of technomin-C, and then we'll see what happens."

While the doctor was injecting the drug, Tyrean cursed silently. Of course it would have been wiser to start with just one implant, but if his allergy had been noticed, he wouldn't have gotten the permission to get more. And Tyrean wouldn't have contented himself with that. He had wanted aug-level 3, and because of his excellent progress, Jareen had gotten permission from the Grandmaster for his surgery. 

To spare time, all of the augmentations had been implanted during one big surgery. This also had the advantage of having to get used to just one great change in his body instead of many small ones. 

But Tyrean had to admit to himself that he hadn't fully understood what he was getting himself into. Of course, he was surrounded by people with implants, but none of them had aug-level 3. Even Jareen was just level 2. Level 3 was the absolute limit of what was humanly possible, and the only other person with it was the Grandmaster himself.

And maybe it had all been in vain.

 

When Tyrean opened his eyes the next time, his vision was clear. He had fallen asleep again despite his worries about the allergy; the doctor had probably injected a tranquilizer along with the technomin. The eye implant had booted completely and was now ready to deliver data. Tyrean focused on it - the implant was mind-controlled - and started infra-red vision. Immediately, the things around him turned into various shades of red, orange and yellow, according to their different levels of heat. Beyond the wall, he saw people moving about. With this, neither darkness nor any obstacles would ever impair his vision again.

Then he tested the second function, feeling dizzy as the zoom was activated. Since his eyes now delivered two different pictures, he closed the left and concentrated on the enhanced vision. The ceiling above him wasn't the most interesting of sights, but he could clearly count all legs of the dead mosquito that was lying on the lamp as if it was mere centimeters away and not about three meters. 

It was good to know that this was working at last. Tyrean put the implant on standby and carefully tried to turn his head.

It worked.

The room was empty. The examination devices showed some readings Tyrean couldn't understand. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping. There was no pain, just this feeling of heaviness. But he had to get used to that. The more important question was if the technomin had worked. It just had to.

 

When the doctor and Jareen entered the room a little while later, they found Tyrean sitting on the edge of the bed. He was wet with perspiration and slightly shivering, but he had managed to get up on his own.

"Lie back down!" the doctor shouted. "Some of the stitching could reopen! And I have to measure the amount of antibodies again."

"Forget it. I'm not lying back down." The vocal cord implant was finally working, and after it was put to standby as well, Tyrean sounded like himself again. "Do your tests, but I’m staying upright."

Jareen seemed to suppress a grin. "I guess the surgery didn't change your attitude. Too bad nobody invented a behavior implant yet," she said. "But you better don't look at yourself in the mirror yet. There's even a scar across your forehead like on that monster from the old book. - Doctor, I hope you can make that vanish. We need him with a pretty face."

"Don't worry, most of the scars will heal completely and leave almost no trace, and facial skin heals extremely well," the doctor reassured her. "But there was no other way to put the flexisteel plates on his cranial bone. Although I'm starting to think our patient was thick-headed enough to begin with."

"Oh, that he is. But unfortunately, mere stubbornness doesn't protect him from a bullet in his head," Jareen remarked. "How are you feeling, Tyrean?"

"I feel heavy, but there's no pain," he replied. "I guess the painkillers were pretty strong." It was indeed strange. There was absolutely no pain, not even the distant, numb throbbing of suppressed pain he was familiar with. It was more of a general numbness. He didn't even feel the cloth of the bed under his fingers.

"Of course you feel no pain," the doctor said with a sigh. "Well, the antibodies are already degenerating, which means that the technomin-C is working fine. I'll implant a little medi-chip under your skin that will give you the daily dose so you don't have to carry around a syringe. I know you don't like to listen to me, but now you have to: if you don't take that technomin regularly, you are dead. Do you understand?"

Tyrean glared at him. "I'm not stupid." 

Of course he would take his medication and live with the side effects. Thanks to his training, he already had a high pain tolerance, but this was even better. Master Shimada would be surprised. Breaking his bones wasn't something that was going to stop Tyrean any longer. 

"Why are you grinning?" Jareen asked. 

"Oh, nothing," he replied. "I just can't wait to get out of here and test the implants."

"It usually takes about half a year to learn how to use them fully," the doctor told him with a shake of his head. "But I guess you plan on being quicker with it."

Tyrean was still grinning. It was strange because he barely even felt the tug of the stitches in his face or on his neck. "After that, I guess I'll be ready for my first real mission."

Jareen was just lifting a skeptical eyebrow. "We'll get to that when you're ready, kid. I suggest you start with relearning to walk first."

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 8 Part I - Blank Print

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It doesn't matter. In four weeks, we're either all dead or safely back on earth," Tyler muttered.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 7th, AD 2667 – 6 ½ days left ~

Mrs. Karakova quickly followed Chase's order and joined them in Tyrean's quarters. She carried a medical kit with her that included a skin regenerator. It wasn't meant to close deeper wounds, but it would at least heal the abrasions. Tyler's upper arm got a simple bandage. When she inspected his hip, however, she stopped short.

"Mr. Derringford, I think a little metallic object got stuck in the wound. - No, it’s a busted medi-chip. I have to pull it out."

"Do what you must," Tyler replied rather grimly, then he looked up at Chase who was waiting for an explanation. "I had a medi-chip implanted that releases my medicine into my blood."

"Is this medicine vitally important?" Chase asked. "And do you have any spares?"

Mrs. Karakova had pulled out the defunct chip by now and examined the tiny markings on it. "Vitally important indeed. And I guess you don't need any painkillers yet. How long will the effect last? 24 hours?"

Tyler nodded, lips tight. "Those chips are supposed to be reliable."

"And what does this mean exactly?" The young inquisitor wasn't about to give up on the matter. "I carry the responsibility for everyone's welfare on board."

Mrs. Karakova held the skin regenerator an inch above the damaged skin at Tyler's hip. "Mr. Derringford seems to be one of those rare people that are highly allergic to implants. To avoid any rejection, he constantly needs a drug called technomin-C. It's working very well, but it has a grave side effect. Are you familiar with it, Father?"

"No, never heard of it. What is this about?"

Mercilessly, she poked Tyler's injured hip with a sharp fingernail, but he didn't even notice. "Technomin-C dulls any kind of sensory feeling. Emotions are suppressed as well."

Chase stared at Tyler. "Come again?"

The young man shrugged. "The lady knows her stuff."

"And what will happen now, since I'm guessing that you don't have any spare medicine with you?"

"That depends on the individual," Natalia Karakova said. "The technomin will stop working within 24 hours. After that, the implants will fail to work, one by one, and the body will start to reject them. This causes strong internal infections and high fever. I've heard of cases that survived up to four weeks after that, but no longer."

"It doesn't matter. In four weeks, we're either all dead or safely back on earth," Tyler muttered.

"Well, he's got a point." Natalia put away her medical supplies and got up. "There's nothing more I can do. If you'll excuse me, I'll go look after Miss Saunders."

"Of course. But there'll be an interrogation in the dining room at noon."

Natalia nodded and left Tyler's room. As soon as the door had closed behind her, Chase asked, "So if that drug really prevents you from feeling anything - why did you throw yourself at me?"

Tyler grabbed a fresh top and pulled it carefully on without disturbing the bandage. "Did I?"

"Yes you did, and I'm starting to get the impression that you did it to distract me," Chase clarified. "So, what was that about?"

Tyler looked at him through some green-dyed bangs, his gaze cold and clear. "I just reacted to the looks you gave me, Father. But instead of arresting me, you returned the kiss. Do your superiors know about this?"

"And you think they'd believe you? Tyler, I have no idea what kind of game you're playing, but there are much more important things at stake right now. We have six days left before we all die if we - I - don't do something about it. You can be a big help with your technical knowledge - or with your confession. Truth be told, you are high on my list of suspects."

"Well, I can start with helping you by telling you I had nothing to do with the murder. I don't have any proof for it, but I slept that night, like everybody else - except for the true murderer. That's all I can tell you."

Chase stood up. "Duly noted. Well, you should rest. I have to go and find out the truth."

 

Although he didn't expect to find anything, Chase used Kelly's keycard to gain entrance to every guest room and searched it for weapons. But he didn't find anything. If the culprit had been capable of fooling the scanner at the station's entrance, the weapon was either perfectly concealed or already destroyed. 

The young father went back down to the maintenance level after these fruitless efforts. He wanted to thoroughly search the control center and activate the AI that was supposed to analyze the evidence. Back there, his eyes fell on the traces of blood on the console, and he wiped it away with his handkerchief. Tyler had risked far too much to help him get down here, and although Chase was angry with him for his behavior, he was thankful as well - and worried. But his feelings couldn't get into the way of his investigation. He had to stay unbiased, although he couldn't help but feel sympathy or aversion for the people around him. It was only human.

After the console looked immaculate again, Chase took a closer look at the controls and screens. Those were also showing the already familiar countdown of Protocol Sunflare, but this changed when he touched one of the screens. A digital picture of Carl Sanders appeared. With a slightly artificially-sounding inflection it said, "Welcome to the main control center, Father Holloway. This program will analyze any evidence in my murder case and either accept or reject it. Do not try to fake any evidence, or it will have dire consequences. Do you have any new data to analyze?"

Chase nodded and started telling the AI his findings so far - mainly how the culprit had carried out the murder. When he told the AI of the second grade weapon, it interrupted him to ask for a scan of the code lock and the droids to verify it. Chase put in on his list of things to do yet today. Everything else was accepted safe for the fact that Kelly must have helped the murderer with the retina scanner.

"Wrong information. This program is supervising any use of the retina scanner at my door, and it wasn't used by Kelly Saunders last night."

Chase looked up in surprise. "Then who?"

"Processing. Last use by Jefferson Carthy. Error. Jefferson Carthy is not a registered guest and is not aboard this station."

Now, the young inquisitor was completely confused. "How can that be?"

"Error. Please find a logical explanation for this, Father Holloway," the AI demanded unfazed.

To be continued...


	20. Chapter 8 Part II - Blank Print

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just found out that the retina scanner at Mr. Saunders’ door is monitored by the AI. And it says that Jefferson Carthy was the one to use the scanner last night, although he isn't aboard."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have to question each one of you alone now about last night," Chase started when everyone was assembled in the dining room. "But first, I have a general question. Does the name Jefferson Carthy ring a bell?"

"What does Mr. Carthy have to do with this?" Villiers demanded. "His firm is no rival to Saunders Industries since it specializes in only one area."  
"So you know him?" Chase asked.

"Yes, of course." Villiers, Karakova, Shaziri, and Tyler were nodding in agreement. "He's the head developer and founder of a firm named Scansec, located in Canada. They produce retina scanners and are leading the market."

"And you're sure that this Mr. Carthy has nothing to do with Mr. Saunders?"

"Father, if you would tell us why you're asking about Jefferson Carthy, we might give you some helpful answers," Shaziri said with barely concealed impatience. 

"I just found out that the retina scanner at Mr. Saunders’ door is monitored by the AI. And it says that Jefferson Carthy was the one to use the scanner last night, although he isn't aboard."

Those with technical knowledge looked at each other for a moment, and then Shaziri slammed his hand on the table. “I’ll be damned," he grumbled. "Do you think what I'm thinking? A blank print?"

"Mr. Shaziri, you know as well as we do that blank prints are a myth," Mr. Villiers reminded him. "And you forget the fact that the father would have noticed something like that when he scanned our retina prints."

"No, he wouldn't, and that's the problem. You see what you want to see," Shaziri replied and then turned back to Chase. "You don't know what we're talking about, do you?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. But I think we should clear it up for the others present," Chase answered, suddenly getting a very bad feeling. If this was really true... "There haven't been any verifiable cases of a blank print so far, and therefore it's pure myth for most. But the Church has a great interest in finding out anything about possible illegal augmentations to protect our citizens. To make it short, a blank print means that a person doesn't have an individual retina print anymore. It's reduced to a generic base pattern that all scanners accept."

"It's like a skeleton key," Shaziri added. "And absolutely undetectable. But the AI did notice something. Based on the scanner's programming, it identified the blank print as factory setting. And the factory setting is the developer's retina pattern. There's no other explanation."

"But the blank print is a fairy tale," Mrs. Karakova repeated. "There were some big security holes in network-used retina scanners a few decades back, that's true. Back then, an officially deceased person's pattern could become a skeleton key. But today's systems are far more advanced. And there has been some experimenting with blank prints to find out if it's theoretically possible. It didn't really work so far."

"But it's the only possible solution. Any of you could have a blank print, and I have no means to find out who," Chase admitted. He hated this.  
"Wait a moment," Veronica interjected. "If this blank print can fool any retina scanner, you just have to try everyone of us to get into, let's say, your quarters, Father. The scanner at the door is programmed to let only you and Kelly in. If the door opens, you'll have your culprit."

This was a clever idea, but the next fifteen minutes were completely wasted on this try. Chase ordered everyone to try the scanner at his door with both eyes, and every time, there was just a red "access denied"-sign blinking. The only interesting moment came when Tyler tried. While his left eye evoked the usual sign, the right with the implant triggered a new one: "Error. No retina in scanner range. Please try again."

Nothing else happened. Nobody was able to get the door open, and Chase has to admit his defeat. If a blank print existed, it was also thought-controlled and couldn’t be used against the person’s will.

"Thank you," Chase said, ending the test. "This was a good idea, but sadly, it didn't help us at all. Let's get back to the dining hall and start the questioning."

 

Talking to all of the guests took Chase the whole afternoon, but at least it formed a clear picture of last night’s events. Chase himself had returned to his quarters at half past nine, along with Villiers, Karakova, and Kelly. Veronica and Shaziri had played chess for another hour, while Atlantis, Ashton, and Tyler had partied until one in the morning. This way, everyone had an alibi for returning to their own rooms because no one had gone alone. But as soon as the camera stopped operating properly, everything was possible. Atlantis and Ashton shared a room, but if one of them had done it, the other would have lied about it, so it was no help either. 

After everyone had been interrogated, the young inquisitor allowed himself a cup of coffee, noticing with distaste how fast he was getting addicted to it. The coffee he was used to tasted like stale water in comparison. 

He had to think. The murderer sure wasn’t making it easy for him so far. What had he really learned?

First, the cameras had been manipulated, and he didn’t know how.

Second, the culprit had smuggled a second grade weapon, obviously military-grade, aboard. He had somehow fooled the entrance scanners and maybe was still hiding it somewhere. 

Third, the culprit did have a blank print, although this technology didn’t officially exist. 

Fourth, Saunders hadn’t been killed with a high-tech weapon, but with his own letter opener that had been lying on the desk. There had been no fingerprints.

Fifth, Kelly had surprised the killer and had been gravely injured by them. 

Sixth…

Chase stopped his train of thought. There was something not right here. How could someone as organized as the killer just injure the girl and not kill her, a possible witness? The raw violence that had been used spoke of a panicked reaction that didn’t fit the killer’s cold-bloodedness. And there was also the murder weapon. Why get so close and personal? By stabbing a person, one could risk bloodstains on one’s clothing. Using an object from the victim’s own desk spoke of a murder of opportunity.

No, it definitely didn’t fit. Chase had learned to draw a precise psychological profile and vividly remembered his lessons by old father Alonso.   
“A person may play a role very well, but they will always revert to their nature under exceptional circumstances. The more surprising the situation, the less they will be able to stay true to their masquerade. If you encounter a fact that doesn’t fit into the picture, it means one of two things: either it shows the true nature of a person who's not who you this they is, or it has nothing to with your case.”

Could this mean that the killer wasn’t the precise assassin Chase had been taken them for? Had he or she panicked when Kelly showed up unexpectedly? This also meant that Protocol Sunflare had scared the killer even more, and that this fear couldn’t be hidden forever. This was the thing he had to look out for. 

There was also the matter of Kelly’s protection. Chase continuously supervised her vital functions, but if the murderer decided to kill her later to keep her from identifying them…

That was it. By now, everyone knew that he had activated the AI without Kelly’s help, so she wouldn’t be needed to save the station. If she was dead, the killer was safe. Could Chase risk using the young woman as bait?   
Maybe it was his only chance.

The young father installed an invisible laser perimeter around Kelly’s bed. It would warn him immediately if someone came close to her - and tell him who it was. He also ordered the little cleaning droid to make a video recording. Droids like this weren’t supposed to do surveillance work, so it would be unlikely that it might be noticed. The normal video surveillance was working again, but it could be hacked any time again and wasn’t trustworthy anymore. 

At least a bit satisfied, Chase returned to his room this evening. The countdown had continued and reminded him that the first of seven remaining days was over. The space station’s movement wasn’t noticeable, but the view outside the window had changed. Earth and the moon were gone, and Venus was approaching fast. 

To be continued...


	21. Chapter 9 - Requiem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course I remember. And I remember something else: you said that if you wanted to kill Carl Saunders, you’d crash the whole station.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I'll skip an update. The story will continue on December 2nd.

Chapter 9 – Requiem

~Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 7th, AD 2667 – 6 days left~

An acoustic signal pulled Chase out of his sleep, and for a moment he felt a terrible sense of déjà vu, reliving last night again. It wasn’t the murder itself that troubled him, but Kelly’s injury, Protocol Sunflare, and his own inability to prevent any of this. A few seconds later, however, he was fully awake and took a look at the countdown still showing on his screen. Right now, the murder was exactly 24 hours past.

The signal that had woken him came from the perimeter around Kelly’s bed, but her life signs that the chip was still transmitting seemed to grew stronger. Someone was with her, and it seemed to help her.

Nevertheless, the young inquisitor didn’t take any chances. He quickly dressed and took the lift up to Saunders’ rooms. He found Veronica van Hogen sitting at Kelly’s bedside. She held the young woman’s hand in hers and was singing softly. Chase made himself noticed, but signed her to carry on.  
After a few more verses, Veronica finished the song. “The last time Carl’s son and his family visited Carl was when we were still married,” she finally said softly. “Kelly was two years old, and the journey to Eden City had scared her. On top of it, her father and grandfather were arguing all the time. I sang her to sleep every night. When they returned home, Kelly had gotten so used to my lullabies that she wouldn’t sleep without them, so I sent her a recording. After that, Kelly and I didn’t meet very often, and I suppose she has forgotten about it. But I thought it couldn’t hurt.” Veronica looked at Chase, and he noticed that her eyes were red. “And it’s soothing for me, too. I know, it’s silly.”

“Not at all. Kelly’s life signs have improved.” Chase pointed to the readings. “Veronica, with all that is going on, I haven’t even gotten to say my condolences to you. I think that you and Miss Kelly were the ones closest to Mr. Saunders.”

“Thank you. And yes, I think so. Tina made a huge scene and had a hysterical crying fit, but I guess she had forgotten that there was no press present.” Veronica smiled a bit crookedly. “All the others don’t really care, I guess. All that worries them is their own lives, with us being on collision course with the sun.”

“And you’re not worried about that?”

“Of course I am.” Veronica turned back to Kelly’s still form. “But in the room next door, the man I loved more than anything in this world is lying dead with a letter opener in his chest. Young man, I want to be honest with you: I came here with the intention of winning Carl back. I wanted to persuade him to get the necessary medimplants to regain his ability to walk. Before his accident, Carl had been an energetic, agile man, completely different to the bitter old man in a wheelchair you have come to know. He was charming and charismatic. That was the person I loved, and I wanted to bring him back.”

“Do you know any details about the circumstances that put Mr. Saunders in a wheelchair in the first place?” the father asked. “I just found some vague information about an accident in his house. Mr. Saunders was celebrated as a very devout man who wouldn’t even taint his body with medimplants to regain his health.”

Veronica nodded. “It was a year ago. Carl slipped and fell down a staircase in his penthouse in Eden City. He broke his backbone and several bones in his hip and upper legs. After several surgeries, he still had feeling in his legs, but no strength.”

“Was there someone with him when he fell?” the young inquisitor asked.

“Tina was there. Maybe you should ask her. But no, I don’t think she had anything to do with it,“ she added when she noticed Chase’s questioning gaze. “But I think the accident was one of the reasons they separated.”

“How so?”

“Young man, go ask Tina. But Carl always had a great aversion against implants of any kind, even against those approved by your Church. That was the reason he remained in the wheelchair, although it was unnecessary. It was to prove a point. And then Tina used his money for her enhancements and cosmetic surgery. It helped her career a lot, as far as I know, but Carl didn’t like it one bit. You remember our very first conversation about her? All Tina ever did was to use Carl.”

“Of course I remember. And I remember something else: you said that if you wanted to kill Carl Saunders, you’d crash the whole station.”

Veronica had the decency to flinch. “A stupid choice of words, I know. But I wasn’t in the best of moods that evening.”

The young father watched her closely. “So you wanted to persuade Mr. Saunders to get medimplants? I thought you weren’t a big fan of high technology either.”

“Oh yes, my activities with the luddites, of course. So you have been digging up the sins of my youth?” Veronica smiled humorlessly. “That was a long time ago. Back then, there was talk of changing some laws in the UN. Some politicians wanted to admit augmentations again as long as they were clearly marked and registered, and there were huge protests. Augmentations remained forbidden, but some of us went too far despite the good intentions.”

Chase replied, “I understand. But there is something else: Mr. Saunders’ last message. He asked me to tell you and Kelly something, and just the two of you.”

“And what was it?” Veronica asked quietly. 

“He said that he never stopped loving you. You and Kelly were the only people who still meant something to him. I wanted you to know that. And I’m also here for you if you need anything.”

She nodded, silent tears running down her cheeks. 

Chase slowly backed off. Veronica took Kelly’s hand again, and after a few deep breaths, started to sing again. As Chase watched her, he was absolutely sure that she had nothing to do with the murder. He had to trust his intuition in this matter, because he had no proof, but since proof was so hard to come by in the first place, he had to trust his gut feeling. And this told him that a person singing lullabies to a young girl couldn’t possibly hurt her. And that a person with such a deep, sad love in her heart would never kill her beloved. 

At the same time, Chase was glad that Carl Saunders’ body wasn’t lying unmourned in the next room. As ruthless and ambitious the man had been and as little sympathy Chase could find for him in his own heart, there were people who would miss him. Veronica’s lullaby was also Carl Saunders’ requiem. 

To be continued...


	22. Interlude V - The first Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrean looked down at the first man he had killed. There had been no recognition whatsoever in Cheng's eyes, no despair, no hate, no accusation, just blind, animalistic panic, like a fish on dry land. And all that was left was an empty shell.

~ Private club Rose Garden, Eden City, AD 2664 ~

"Can I offer you another drink, handsome?" The pretty young barkeeper leaned against the bar, displaying her deeply cut neckline. 

Tyrean smiled at her and pointed at his still half-full glass, decorated with a little umbrella that changed its color constantly. "Thanks, but I still have to finish this. You make some excellent poison, honey."

"Thanks." She fluttered her lashes at him, and Tyrean fought the urge to roll his eyes. Jareen had given him some basic advice on how to flirt with girls, and it was pathetically easy so far. And it was also helping that he looked like a real playboy today in a cream-colored suit, dark red shirt, bright blonde, spiky hair, and a nice tan, setting off sparkling blue eyes. 

"I haven't seen you here before, handsome," the barkeeper said, and there was a question in her voice. 

"Well, I have heard only recently of the Rose Garden and received an invitation just yesterday. You know how the Church tries to suppress establishments like these. It's a shame."

The barkeeper nodded and sighed. "I know. But officially, the Rose Garden is just a private club for esteemed and well-off members of society. May I ask who invited you?"

"Miss Miranda Valance. I have an appointment with her here."

"I'm sorry, but she hasn't showed up yet. But why don't you look around a bit while you wait," the young woman suggested. "There might be some other... poison we offer that you'd like."

"I think I'll do that. If it's boring, I'll come back to you, honey," Tyrean promised with a wink. The barkeeper giggled. "And if Miss Valance shows up in the meantime, please tell her that Marlin Sout is waiting for her."

Tyrean took his drink and crossed the room, forcing himself to walk slowly. This sweet talk had been so silly, and he wanted to get on with his mission. The bar of the Rose Garden was a beautiful, elegant room with little tables and comfortably stuffed chairs, lots of flower arrangements and a little fountain in the middle. Everything seemed harmless and respectable - safe for the barkeeper's revealing dress, perhaps - so that no one would suspect that the rooms beyond served for an entirely different purpose. 

Those were, as the name suggested, artificial conservatories with holographic images projected on the walls and ceilings to create the illusion of a beautiful park on a sunny day. Roses bloomed everywhere, in any possible shade, and a sweet fragrance filled the air. But the guests didn't restrict their activities to drinking tea and taking a walk among the flowers. Disguised as flower pots, there were little containers next to several benches which dispensed a drug called Dreamcatcher that put the user into a trance-like state and left no permanent damage - supposedly. There were several well-dressed men and women sitting on the benches, eyes staring blankly.

If Tyrean's own feelings hadn't been numbed by a drug as well, he would have found those people's zombie-like stare rather unnerving. But all he felt was a bit of disappointment. His very first mission wasn't really difficult so far. 

After a seemingly endless time of constant training, Jareen and his other mentors had finally deemed him ready to go on his first mission. His orders were to kill one of the regular guests of the Rose Garden, a certain Peter Cheng, and transfer the information about a planned business transaction from his datapad to Cheng's rival.

Tyrean walked through the little hallway that led to the first of the interlinked conservatories, sipping at his drink that tasted vaguely sweet. The conversation with the barkeeper had been part of the mission since the client wanted to blame Miranda Valance. She had been the client's lover, but then she met Peter Cheng. Aside from switching her bedmate, she had also told Cheng about the client's business secrets. In putting away with Cheng and letting it look like Valance had hired the Luna Mortis to do so - Tyrean's alias was a simple anagram of the organization's name - it was catching two birds with one stone. The whole thing was rather pathetic, but Tyrean was resolved to execute his mission perfectly nevertheless. After all, there would be more interesting jobs in the future.

Peter Cheng was quickly found. The Asian man in his forties, wearing an expensive suit, was sitting on a bench, sunken down, with a void gaze like the others. Tyrean looked around, and when he was sure nobody had noticed him, sat down on the bench next to Cheng's with a drug dispenser between them. He took one of the small tubes with a tiny, fresh needle at the end of it from the dispenser and put it into his collar, making it look like he had hooked himself up on it. There were no surveillance cameras in this building for obvious reasons, but he wouldn't risk being discovered by a wandering guest. Quickly, he pulled another tiny syringe from his sleeve and stuck it into Cheng's slack hand resting on the bench's arm. This way, the poison would take some time to reach the brain where it would severe the synapses. In the meantime, Tyrean could work on the data transfer.

He found Cheng's datapad in the pocket of his jacket and suppressed a smirk when he noticed the ludicrous security on it. It was dealt with within seconds, and Tyrean accessed the data he needed. It was sent to a temporary online storage the client had specified. After that, the datapad was put back into Cheng's jacket. 

Tyrean stayed where he was for a few more minutes. So far, nobody had walked by, and he felt a vague disappointment at the easiness of the job. Any first year trainee of the Luna Mortis could have done this. How was this even a test? 

Just as Tyrean decided to get up and leave, he heard a soft groan. Cheng seemed to come to. A quick check of the dispenser told Tyrean that the timer had run out, and the little machine was waking him up. The poison would have killed Cheng while he was being in trance, and he would have died without even noticing it. 

Tyrean cursed himself for not checking the dispenser's timer first. And he had no more poison left. Damn rookie mistake, Tyrean cursed himself. He had been too sure of himself.

Since there was still no coherent person in sight who might witness the things to come, Tyrean quickly grabbed Cheng around the neck and squeezed. It was not an elegant method, but it was bloodless and prevented the man from screaming. 

Cheng gave a choked sound, eyes bulging, as his survival instinct kicked in. The residue of the drug and the slowly-working poison, however, had robbed him of all his strength. His fingers clawed uselessly at Tyrean's wrist for a moment, then it was over. 

Tyrean looked down at the first man he had killed. There had been no recognition whatsoever in Cheng's eyes, no despair, no hate, no accusation, just blind, animalistic panic, like a fish on dry land. And all that was left was an empty shell.

With some quick movements, Tyrean rearranged Cheng's crumpled collar to hide the bruise there, then closed his eyes. Now he just looked asleep.  
Back to the plan. Tyrean scanned the area one last time before he rose, took his drink and slowly made his way back to the bar. The drink still tasted faintly sweet, but as nondescript as before. 

Just as he was about to step back into the bar area, he heard loud noises that pierced the place's silence. The barkeeper's voice, shrill and teary, then a man's commanding bark. Heavy footsteps, furniture breaking.

A raid by the Inquisition.

Tyrean lost no time. He darted back into the conservatory, looking for an emergency exit. Tiny signs showed him the way back through the entire facility. Behind him, he could hear noises again: screams mostly, as the clients were violently pulled out of their drug haze. 

Finally, he reached the emergency exit, discreetly hidden behind some high flower shrubs. The door let to a staircase; the Rose Garden was on the third floor of a ten-story-building. As Tyrean had flown down the first pair of stairs, he heard some noise from below. It was too faint and muffled to be identified, so he switched his eye augmentation to infrared vision. One level beneath him, five heavily-armed men were making their way up. 

Tyrean turned around. The roof, then – there was no use hiding in one of the lower levels. The Inquisition would search the whole building. Luckily, his shoes didn't make much noise. He reached the door leading onto the roof in record time. It was locked, and more precious seconds had to be wasted to pick the lock. 

It was early evening outside, the sun setting over Eden City's skyline in various shades of red. Tyrean would have preferred total darkness for his escape, but this was second best, giving him orientation. He ran to the northwest edge of the roof. The city's layout was second nature to him, and at this spot, he was the closest he could get to the next roof. Tyrean took a few steps back to have enough start-up. As he started to run, the roof door slammed open. 

"Inquisition, stop!" a male voice shouted, but of course Tyrean ignored it. As he jumped from the edge, a shot rang through the air. Tyrean felt an impact in his left upper arm before he landed safely on the other roof. Although there was no pain, leaving blood stains was a bad idea. He grabbed his arm with his other hand and pressed as hard as he could as he continued running over the rooftop towards the next. There were no footsteps behind him, just angry shouting – no sane person would dare to jump that distance without having leg augmentations like Tyrean's.

"By the Light, Acolyte Holloway, he was just in front of you! How could you miss?" The deep, commanding voice from before. Surely the troupe's commander, a Father of the Inquisition.

A younger man answered without remorse, "I'm sorry, sir, but I just wanted to stop him, not kill him. He could have important information..."   
Tyrean jumped to the next roof, and the voices faded away. 

Just my luck it's the night out for stupid, idealistic acolytes, he thought grimly.

 

When Tyrean was sure that he was well out of reach for his pursuers, he stopped to tend to his wound. To his great relief, the bullet was still stuck, effectively blocking the blood flow. He pulled off his jacket, ripped off the sleeve of his shirt and wrapped a makeshift bandage around his injury. Then he put his jacket back on.

His next stop was one of the Luna Mortis' secret hideouts. By now, the bartender surely had given the Inquisition a good description of the new guest, so he had to get rid of his current appearance quickly before he could dare to make an appearance back on the streets and return to headquarters. For safety reasons, operatives of the Luna Mortis never carried any kind of communication device, so Jareen would have to wait a bit longer for his report.   
A hatch on another rooftop served as entrance to the building Tyrean knew to be the safest place right now – and one where he could change appearances. It was a hotel called the Red Horizon Inn, and the owner, Isabelle Watling, made a tidy profit on the side with renting pretty men and women along with her rooms. So far, the Church hadn't been able to get any legal ground on her. Isabelle was also a contact for the Luna Mortis operatives. 

Tyrean crept down the stairs to the level where Isabelle's office was located and then just knocked. He had been here before when Jareen had introduced him. She and Isabelle were old friends.

"Come in!" 

Tyrean opened the door and found Isabelle sitting behind her desk, doing accounting. She was an attractive woman in her forties with bright red curls. "Ah, T, it's you. What can I do for you, honey?"

Tyrean ignored her half-flirty, half-mothering gaze. "A new set of clothes, hair dye, contact lenses and some first aid. And no questions."  
Isabelle's face went serious as she got of from her desk. "Of course. Come with me."

 

Two hours later, Tyrean left the Red Horizon Inn through the official entrance unnoticed by anyone. He was just another client there, a well-dressed young man with pale skin, black hair sleeked back and a gray overcoat. Jareen waited for him outside with a car. He gave her a brief kiss in greeting as if she was his girlfriend picking him up from a business meeting. When they sat safely inside the car, she turned to him. "Well, how did it go?"

"You sent me right into a Church raid."

"Oh yes, I did." Jareen looked almost pleased with herself. "Did you really think I would make it easy for you? You'd be insulted. Now tell me."

And Tyrean told her. 

Jareen shook her head when he had ended. "Okay, I'm pleased with how you handled things. But you could have avoided that bullet. The doctors of our medical station don't count you among their favorite guests, even if you are an almost permanent one."

"I'll try to remember that," he answered dryly. "So, did I pass the test?"

Jareen gave him another look. "You wouldn't be alive if you hadn't."

"I suspected as much." He leaned back in the car. "Don't let me wait too long for the next assignment."

"And your first kill – was it hard?" Jareen asked. "How do you feel?"

Tyrean shot her an annoyed look. "I'm not feeling anything, I'm just glad that the job went well, despite your little surprise. It was easy, and it was no problem. What do you want to hear? That I felt bad or something? Oh please."

Jareen didn't answer.

 

To be continued...


	23. Chapter 10 Part I - Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tyler… it’s me… Chase,” the young father whispered hoarsely. He was barely able to breathe with that steely grip around his throat and Tyler’s considerable weight on his chest. “Let me… go! I… can’t breathe! Ty!”

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 8th, AD 2667, morning – 5 ½ days left~

The next morning, Chase hadn’t made any progress, but he felt a bit better nevertheless. Since the beginning of his investigation, he had slept well and felt refreshed for the first time. Now he had to make use of this and finally make some progress. 

His first destination was Tyler’s room, just a few steps down the hall. He hoped that Tyler was reasonably well and fit enough to help him again. Chase also couldn’t deny that among his torn feelings for the young man, worry was one of them. Despite his rich father, Tyler had clearly experienced some horrible things, and it was surely no fun to live in a permanently numbed state - and even less to lack vital medication.

Chase used the com buzzer. “Tyler, are you awake?”

No answer. The surveillance cameras were working properly again and hadn’t shown Tyler leaving his room. In fact, the only person moving about had been Veronica when she had returned to her quarters two hours ago after her nightly vigil at Kelly’s bedside. 

Chase buzzed again, and when he still got no answer, knocked rather loudly. Now truly worried, he pulled out Kelly’s keycard and opened the door with it.

Tyler’s room was dark, and the young inquisitor could only make out the silhouettes of elegant furniture, arranged in a mirror image of his own quarters. On the bed sat a huddled figure, face toward the large windows. There was only darkness beyond, flecked with stars.

Chase slowly stepped closer and noticed hasty, labored breathing – the breathing of someone fighting for composure. When he was close enough, he reached out to touch Tyler’s naked shoulder.

The next thing happened so fast that Chase had no chance whatsoever to react. Tyler turned around, grabbed his arm and threw Chase onto the floor, using some unknown martial arts technique. The air was painfully pressed out of Chase’s lungs when he collided with the thankfully carpeted floor. Before he could even try to defend himself, Tyler was above him, pushing him down, hands around Chase’s throat.

For some endless seconds, the men stared at each other. Tyler’s eyes, especially the artificial right one, seemed to glow, the effect enhanced by smudged black kohl. There was something infinitely dangerous and predatory in his expression – and also something far more alarming: absolutely no sign of recognition.

“Tyler… it’s me… Chase,” the young father whispered hoarsely. He was barely able to breathe with that steely grip around his throat and Tyler’s considerable weight on his chest. “Let me… go! I… can’t breathe! Ty!”

Slowly, very slowly, the young man seemed to understand. His hands let go of Chase’s throat, and he rose. 

Chase coughed, little stars dancing before his eyes. A few seconds more, and he would have been unconscious. “I… wanted to look after you, see how... you’re doing,” he said, voice still hoarse and wheezing. “But I guess... I got my answer.”

Tyler didn’t say anything. He pushed some tousled strands of hair away from his face and sat down on the bed again. He was just wearing sweatpants and no shoes. Shaking fingers reached for the bandage around his upper arm. “It hurts,” he murmured, sounding strangely surprised. 

“Let’s get you some painkillers,” Chase proposed. “And you shouldn’t stay alone. I guess I startled you?”

Tyler looked at him, eyes still glowing eerily. “It was a reflex. Don’t try to sneak up on me again.”

“I’ll remember that,” Chase promised. ”Did you learn that move at the monastery?”

“Yes.” Tyler took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Chase.”

“I know. Let’s just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Although Chase sounded nonchalant, he was truly shaken. Tyler had been very close to killing him. And he had been completely helpless and unable to prevent it. The attack had been almost supernaturally fast and perfectly executed, leaving Chase with no chance at all. 

Clerics serving the Church of Light, especially inquisitors, were thoroughly trained in all kinds of martial arts and of course shooting atop of their training with their signature weapon, the sword. So far, Chase had thought himself an excellent fighter, earning the constant praise of his mentors in training fights. There hadn’t been many real fights yet, but those he had also won with ease, even against multiple and better-armed opponents.   
But Tyler’s attack had made him feel like a raw recruit on his very first day.

Someone able to hit this precisely was surely also able to commit murder. But why stab someone if you could simply throttle him? And why was Tyler able to be so fast if he had just recently gotten several heavy implants after his severe injuries? Didn’t it take months, even years to get back to such a level of training?

This was again something that didn’t fit. Tyler seemed to consist of contradictions. Nothing Chase had seen so far was making any sense.  
But was this the fact that made a person a murderer? The young inquisitor still held the view that a clever culprit would try to keep a low profile. Trying to kill the investigator wasn’t exactly the best idea, even considering the influence of missing drugs.

Tyler was once again looking out of the window and rubbed his fingers over the bandage as if he had already forgotten about Chase, but the young father wouldn’t be ignored.

“Come on, we’ll get you those painkillers.” This time it was an order. “And I’d like to have someone to talk about the case.” If Tyler was involved, he might let something slip in his weakened state. And if not, his sharp mind might be of help.

Without a word, Tyler got up and went to the bathroom, emerging from it fully clothed and with renewed makeup a few minutes later. He was wearing black, violet, and green - colors that Chase now thought to be favorites. Once again, the outfit left a lot of skin visible. But the dangerous aura was gone – maybe because of the light Chase had now switched on.

Together, they left the room and took the elevator up to Saunders’ private rooms. Without letting Tyler out of sight, Chase checked Kelly’s vital signs and took some painkillers from Saunders’ medicine stock. After Tyler had taken them, they ventured down to the parlor. Chase fought the urge to make himself another coffee in the nearby kitchen, and neither of them had a stomach for breakfast. Ever since Kelly had been incapacitated, the station’s guests had been forced to make their own food. Luckily, Mr. Villiers, Veronica, and, funny enough, Mr. Shaziri had turned out to have a passion for cooking.

The young men took their seats opposite of each other in the parlor, a chess board between them. Chase took all the pieces away from the board. This was a special method he had also learned from his old mentor, Father Alonso. “If you don’t know how to proceed, imagine your case as a chess game. The answers will come for sure,” he had always said.

“If the people present were chess pieces,” Chase said aloud. “Who would be what?”

Tyler took the white rook, put it in on a square at the sidelines, and placed four black pawns around it. No matter which way the rook tried to move, it would always be beaten. “That’s Kelly,” he said, voice now much calmer. The painkillers seemed to help already.

Chase nodded. This was a good metaphor for the girl’s situation – not yet out of the game, but completely helpless at the moment. He took the white king and laid it on its side on its starting position. That king was definitely checkmated.

Tyler understood immediately and positioned a white knight directly in front of the fallen king. The little horse’s stylized face pointed toward Chase.  
“So, I'm the knight in shining armor?" Chase smirked. "But it's true, I have to move and think in different ways than the others. And here's the murderer." He placed the black queen on the square next to the beaten white king. This way, she also threatened the white knight who wasn't able to attack her from his position. A fitting image.

Then he realized something. "If the killer is the black queen of a chess piece, who's the black king? The queen is the game's most powerful piece, but the king is the key. The game is all about him."

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: this story will be on holiday break. Updates will continue on January 6th, 2015. Merry Christmas and a happy new year!


	24. Chapter 10 Part II - Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abruptly, Tyler pulled his hand away. "Pardon me, Father, but I think our conversation has strayed a bit from topic. You wanted some help in your case, and I'm doing my best. Things don't look good, I admit. But you can't wait for miracles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year!

"You think that there's someone else behind it and that the culprit was just following that person's orders?" Tyler summarized.

"Exactly. Let's use the black king as a symbol of a possible mastermind or a still unknown motive." He put the little piece on its starting position, exactly opposite the fallen white king and the white knight. This was the real enemy. Then he took the other white rook and put it to threaten the black pawns.  
"That's Veronica. I'm sure by now that she doesn't have anything to do with the case," he explained.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any proof?"

"No, but I am sure," Chase repeated, then he looked up from the chessboard to Tyler. "And then there's you. What would you be?"

There was a brief, tight smile when Tyler put a white pawn on a position two squares away from the white knight. 

"Just a pawn?"

Tyler reached for five more white pawns and held them in front of Chase's face. "And here's the rest of the station's residents. Or do you have a better idea?"

The young father shook his head, taking the little game pieces. Their fingers brushed against each other for a moment, and he quickly pulled away. One by one, he arranged the white pawns on their starting positions. 

The main problem with this scenario was the fact that he didn't know who those white pawns represented. Each looked the same.

"Alright, let's try this. Please move the black queen, would you?"

Tyler nodded, but before he started, he pushed the button to activate the counter for a five-minute-game, adding the real threat of Protocol Sunflare's countdown to it.

Chase started to play. Step by step, his knight began hunting the black queen across the chessboard, but it was no use. Then he switched to attacking the black king, but once again, the black queen prevented it. More than once, Tyler maneuvered her into a position where he could have easily beaten Chase's game piece. He was really good.

This wasn't going anywhere, and after five minutes, Chase had to give up. He had no chance like this. They lacked a white queen, he thought grimly, someone with the same powers and knowledge as the murderer. Tyler had proved a sharp sense of observation when he had used the knight to symbolize Chase and not the queen.

Tyler's unreadable gaze was upon him. "Do you intend to give up?"

"No. But I need more than this." After a moment of thinking, Chase took the white pawn Tyler had placed and started moving it forward until it had reached the opposite side of the board. Then he switched the little piece with the still unused white queen. "What do you think of that?"

A little smile tugged at the corner of Tyler's lips. "Nice. But what if I was the black queen from the beginning? What if you place your trust in the wrong people?" To demonstrate this, he switched the white rook representing Veronica with a black one and was about to move one of the black pawns to beat Kelly's rook. 

Quickly, Chase grabbed his hand and stopped him. Tyler's skin felt a bit clammy, and there was a barely noticeable shaking. "Wait, there's more." With his free hand, Chase took a white bishop and positioned him to defend Kelly's rook.

The young man opposite him gave a derisive laugh. "The Light will protect her?" he asked. "Now that is something I'd like to see, Father."

"Seems like your faith has been shaken," Chase observed. "But you of all people should have felt the power that has been saving your life when your plane crashed."

"That wasn't the Light," Tyler replied, eyes narrowing. "That was the power of modern medical knowledge - and my own will to survive."

"And where do you think that will came from?"

Abruptly, Tyler pulled his hand away. "Pardon me, Father, but I think our conversation has strayed a bit from topic. You wanted some help in your case, and I'm doing my best. Things don't look good, I admit. But you can't wait for miracles."

"No, I can't. Let's find another way."

 

But it was no use. The whole morning was spent with going through various scenarios, but all of them ended with either a chess piece beating Chase's knight or the time running out. With a grumbling stomach, he decided to give it up around noon. He and Tyler joined the others for lunch in the dining room.

There, Chase met openly worried faces. Until now, all of them had been rather composed, but the more they ran out of time, the more restless and even panicked they would become. So he took the time to explain what he wanted to do next.

"Since we can't rely on the AI alone to accept any evidence I might find, we have to try and deactivate or bypass Protocol Sunflare. Therefore I'm asking all of you with technical knowledge to come with me to the main control room.

This was mainly directed at Tyler and Shaziri. Mrs. Karakova and Mr. Villiers were both working in the financial and economics sector and told him that they had no practical technical knowledge. Kelly would have been a great help, but she was still unconscious although her vital signs were improving constantly. But Chase couldn't wait for her to wake up in time.

Before they left the dining room, Atlantis stopped him. "Father, you'll try anything to rescue us, right? I mean, we're just a handful of people. Is it truly this hard to find Carl's murderer?"

Chase noticed that her usually perfect makeup was smudged around her eyes and that she looked tired. Even her trademark colorful clothing had been replaced with a muted dark blue dress in an almost decent cut. Ashton stepped up to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'll do everything I can, Miss Atlantis. This isn't easy for either of us, but we'll get home safely, I promise you," Chase said. "It's important to remain calm and work together in this situation."

"But I'm feeling so helpless!" she sobbed. "I haven't any clue how I could help! I just know I didn't kill Carl. Why can't you force the murderer to confess?"   
"As I said, I'm doing everything..."

"Yes, you said that! But this AI wants a confession, right? I thought the Church wasn't squeamish about using force to find criminals? And I've put two and two together myself - you are an inquisitor, not just Carl's confessor, right? Do your job! I wanna go home! I don't want to die out here!" These last words were barely understandable and wrecked with sobs.

"Father, she's right," Ashton added, holding her close as she cried. "We all want to get back to earth safely, and I also think that we should satisfy this damned AI by any means if we can't switch it off."

Chase looked at him with a serious expression. "That is my plan, but I don't think it's possible to fool the AI. This might even cause more problems for us than we have right now. Please have faith. The murderer is human, like we all are, and humans make mistakes. I will find those and with them, the needed evidence."

This sounded rather well, but Chase knew that he hadn't managed to do so yet. But it was imperial that none of the people aboard the station doubted him. 

 

Chase, Tyler, and Shaziri climbed down the ladder to the control center. The portly businessman had a bit of difficulties, but managed to arrive safely. As it seemed, he hadn't drunken a drop of alcohol since the murder. He took his time to look at all the panels and then called up some diagnosis systems.

"Carl, you sly old fox," he grumbled. "You certainly thought this through." The he turned to the father and said, "This Protocol Sunflare is connected to the AI and is controlled by it, not the other way around. I don't think that we can bypass it just like that. - Mr. Derringford, you don't happen to know by chance how to create a backdoor to the security of an old CX 4000 chip?"

"I've never tried," he answered. "CX chips haven't been used for ages since the developments of intuitive AIs has been given up altogether. We might damage something."

"We have to try anyway," Chase insisted, although this information wasn't very reassuring. "We're running out of time."

"Then I suggest that you get on with your hunt of the murderer and let me and the boy work," Shaziri said. "I think we'll know tonight if we can actually do something about this."

Although it was against better judgment to leave two suspects alone in the control center, Chase did so. His gut feeling was telling him that Abdul el Sharizi was innocent as well. The old businessman might have hated Carl Saunders, but he had been honest with this from the beginning. Tyler was still another matter, but if he moved against Shaziri, he would expose himself on the spot.

As Chase took the lift up, he thought about his next steps. Were there any leads left to follow? Among all the other open questions, one thing was bugging him the most: the manipulation of the cameras. If a remote manipulation wasn't possible, and if no one had had access to Saunders' Computer or the control center, the only possibility left was his own quarters. But he would have noticed if someone had been to his quarters since the surveillance had worked until a certain point. 

There was something nagging at the back of his head, but Chase couldn't pin it down. This was an important lead, he knew, but a piece of the puzzle was still missing. 

To be continued...


	25. Entr'acte - The Grandmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The screen went dark. Jareen stared at it for a moment longer before she got up and went to her bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. Her skin felt hot and tight, and her eyes burned. She hated this feeling.

~ Secret Headquarters of the Luna Mortis, somewhere in Eden City, AD 2664 ~

After Jareen had debriefed Tyrean from his first mission and sent him off to the medical station, she went to her own rooms. The operatives of the Luna Mortis and their supervisors and trainers were living in private apartments near the headquarters – or more precisely, above them. The huge apartment complex belonging to the Luna Mortis had a vast subterranean level protected by the most sophisticated of security systems.

When Jareen entered her apartment, she found a message at her computer terminal. It consisted of just one word: "Report". 

More wasn't necessary. Jareen sat down and activated the secure channel. Since no Luna Mortis member had any individual fingerprints or retina prints left, she used a combination of blood sample scan and a 20-digit code. Moments later, a shadowed face appeared on her screen. Jareen involuntarily straightened her posture to attention.

"Grandmaster, Tyrean finished his first assignment. There was some unexpected trouble for him, but he executed his mission well and left no trace. He was injured, however, but it should heal quickly."

"Very good." The Grandmaster's voice was slightly warped, sounding like a voice modulator not working perfectly. Jareen knew that she was in a privileged position - there were only a handful of people the Grandmaster had ever spoken directly to. To protect the organization, the operatives only knew their direct supervisors and mentors, and once they decided to teach the younger candidates, they stepped down from active duty. Jareen herself had given up her active status to train Tyrean. In fact, it had been a welcome opportunity after serving the organization as an operative for many years.  
"If you are satisfied with the boy's work, why do you look worried?" The Grandmaster asked.

For a moment, Jareen was angry with herself that she didn't seem to have full control over her features before she realized that it was the Grandmaster's uncanny ability to read her. No one except him would had noticed that there was something bothering her.

"It's just... it's difficult to explain", she finally said with a sigh. "I know I shouldn't care about him the way I do, but I can't help it."

"Because he reminds you of your little brother."

Jareen nodded. The Grandmaster of course knew her past, a past she had never spoken about. Becoming a member of the Luna Mortis meant leaving your past behind you. 

"I don't want to lose him the way I lost my brother," she said softly. "But I see so many similarities. My brother... he was addicted to the danger and only felt alive when violent. And now I saw Tyrean looking truly pleased for the first time since he started using the technomin. I know that he's ideal for the job because he can't feel anymore, but that also makes him reckless. He could have hurt himself seriously and wouldn't even have noticed it. And to think that the only way he can feel again is by killing people... it just doesn't seem right."

"He doesn't enjoy killing, Jareen," the Grandmaster told her, warped voice surprisingly soft. "He enjoys having a job done well. He's a perfectionist, and as you well know, craves praise and acceptance. I have seen how he looks at you. He wants to make you proud although he would never admit it."

"I hope so", Jareen said. "But there is something wrong with him, and the drug made it worse. It might have suppressed the anger inside him, but the reason for that anger isn't gone."

"You really seem to have developed a blind spot where the boy is concerned." The Grandmaster's voice was still soft. "When we took him in, he showed all signs of antisocial personality disorder. But he isn't the first and won't be the last psychopath we train to be an operative. People with a normal moral compass wouldn't be able to do what we do, unless they'd be convinced it is for a higher purpose - like you are. But Tyrean would never believe in higher purposes or a greater good. The only thing he believes in is a very simple mechanism: if you don't do your best, you're worthless - to yourself and others. His upbringing at the orphanage taught him that, and it constantly clashes with his personality disorder, making both worse. And now the drugs give him a clear enough head to act normally, but at the same time makes him care even less for himself and others. Is that what bothers you?"

Jareen nodded. "And I fear that it will tear him apart one day. Not tomorrow, not in a year, but someday. I'm pretty sure he'll be the best operative this organization ever had until then. If the results are all that count, than I'll keep my worries to myself, Grandmaster."

"It's right that you're worried," he answered. "And although the results are important, our people are as much. You keep an eye on him, Jareen, and report to me after every mission he takes."

"Yes, Grandmaster."

The screen went dark. Jareen stared at it for a moment longer before she got up and went to her bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. Her skin felt hot and tight, and her eyes burned. She hated this feeling.

Maybe it would have been better, she thought bitterly, if she had killed him then and there on the spot - that skinny boy with the hungry eyes who had followed her all these years ago. It might have been a mercy for both of them.

But now it was too late. All she could do was send Tyrean on his next assignment to do what he was meant to do – until it killed him.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter officially marks the halfway point of the story, measured by chapters (the ones broken into two parts count as one).


	26. Chapter 11 Part I - Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young father held her as she almost stumbled. “What happened?”  
> "It's... it's... Ash, he is...," she stammered. "The pool..."

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 8th, AD 2667, afternoon – 5 ½ days left ~

The next thing Chase did was return to his room to take a good look at his computer terminal. He didn't think that he'd actually find something, but he had to start somewhere. He switched on all the lights and then searched his desk inch by inch. Everything was like it should be except for a fresh round coffee mark that stemmed from his own pot. There was also nothing to be found at the monitors and the keyboard as well as the projectors and the tiny box that housed the actual hard drive. When Chase ran a finger over the hard drive, he felt a bit of dust. The cleaning droids shouldn't have missed that.

The droids... what if someone hacked them to manipulate his computer? But Chase immediately dismissed that idea. Those small rolling devices were far too simple to be manipulated so completely to enable them to hack another device. When he pulled his hand away, he noticed that the dust was actually a gray powder. It didn't smell strange, but it glittered slightly.

The young inquisitor didn't hesitate. He pulled out his analyzing scanner and started to examine the powder. It didn't take long to be sure that it was the residue of a self-disintegrating mini-chip. Its exact purpose was unclear, but Chase concluded that it could only have been a hack-chip to give someone remote control over Chase's computer. 

Maybe it had been in place before Chase had even come to the station? Nobody except Kelly and the cleaning droids did have access. So who could have put the chip there? No one had been allowed into Chase's rooms since his arrival, except...

Suddenly, a mental image flashed before Chase's inner eye: Tyler, leaning nonchalantly against the desk. This was the only explanation.

But the question remained: Why him? Why Tyler of all people, the only one without a sound motive, but with more secrets than anyone else on this station? The young inquisitor decided that he had been completely blind. He had been thoroughly distracted and thus overlooked important things. But he wasn't about to let Tyler triumph. 

Arresting him, however, was another matter. The young father severely doubted that Tyler would submit without a fight. Chase was armed and warned, but it wasn't enough. If Tyler had been clever enough to smuggle an EMP weapon aboard, why not more, and lethal ones?

Nevertheless, the missing motive was nagging Chase. He thought back to their conversation about the chess pieces, especially the black king. Maybe Tyler had been hired by another person, although it seemed strange with a rich father who hadn't cut him off from inheritance despite their differences – Chase had already looked this up in the files. All in all, everything the young man said or did, just didn't match.

Suddenly, Chase remembered the crumbled handkerchief in the pocket of his robe, which he had used to wipe Tyler's blood off the console. Just following his intuition, he took it out and put it under his analysis scanner. Then he connected it to the personal files on his computer.

The result didn't take long. There wasn't a blood sample of Tyler Derringford, but the files mentioned his extremely rare blood type, AB positive.  
The sample on the handkerchief, however, was A negative.

And there it was, the missing piece of the puzzle. All the confusing, disconnected things concerning Tyler started to align, and Chase realized that, all this time, he had tried piecing together a picture that didn't exist at all.

With a curse on his lips which would have made his superiors shudder, Chase grabbed his folded sword and stormed out of his room.

But he didn't come far. Just as the doors of the lift opened, he bumped into Atlantis. The young woman was deadly pale, sobbing hysterically. She was only wearing a bath robe hastily thrown over her tiny white bikini.

The young father held her as she almost stumbled. “What happened?”  
"It's... it's... Ash, he is...," she stammered. "The pool..."

Chase pushed her back into the lift and chose the level of the greenhouse. Endless seconds passed, and although he tried, he couldn't get one coherent word out of the model. But Chase already had a dark sense of foreboding about what had happened, and as soon as they had reached the right level and had run down the path towards the pool, it was confirmed.

In the pool, face down and fully clothed, a body was floating. It was Ashton Arezzo.

Atlantis once again broke into shuddering sobs and quickly turned her face away. Chase gently directed her to one of the benches between the flower shrubs, out of sight of the pool, then he returned to the scene of crime. Around the pool, there were some small puddles of water on the tiles, but those could have been there all day. On one of the little tables next to the deck chairs, he found a notepad. Chase took it up with the hem of his sleeve and read the only information it contained: a text message from Ashton.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on holidays for the next weeks. Updates will resume on March 3rd.


	27. Chapter 11 Part II - Downfall

On one of the little tables next to the deck chairs, he found a notepad. Chase took it up with the hem of his sleeve and read the only information it contained: a text message from Ashton.

 

"Tina, love, I'm terribly sorry. I did all of it just for you, but now your life is in danger. I won't stand the humiliation of getting arrested like a common criminal. This confession, however, should convince the AI to send the station safely back to earth.

I, Ashton Arezzo, have killed Carl Saunders in his office with his own letter opener. That evening, I couldn't sleep and wandered around the station until I noticed that the surveillance cameras weren't working. I have a record scanner in my wrist watch that allows me to tie into the camera feed during movie shootings – that way, I can always see myself through the eyes of the cameramen. That night, my scanner showed me an empty corridor right where I was standing, and I realized that this was my chance. That bastard Saunders still had Tina under his thumb, and I couldn't forgive him the way he had treated her. Now she's free to do what she wants.

I took the lift up to Saunders' apartment. I didn't really think about what I would do – maybe talk to Saunders, pressure him into giving Tina the money that is hers. I found the security droids switched off and the door open. Behind his desk, Saunders was sitting in his wheelchair, sleeping. When I saw the letter opener on his desk, I short-circuited. Saunders gave a death rattle, but still had the strength to push the emergency button. I wanted to flee, but Kelly was there within seconds, blocking my way. I really didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't risk her seeing me. I'm sorry about her, but not about Saunders. He had it coming. Everyone on this station wanted him dead, but I was the one to take action.

I love you, Tina. Please don't forget me."

 

Carefully, Chase put the notepad into his pocket and took a few deep breaths. Now he knew what had happened. Ashton, although an unlikely candidate, had been the murderer. And now it was also clear that the murder itself and the preparations to get into Saunders' rooms didn't match. When Ashton arrived, the security systems had already been deactivated by someone else.

And Chase now knew who was responsible for that.

But one thing after another.

First, the model had to calm down to answer some questions, and the corpse had to be fished out of the water. Chase ran back to the lift and cursed the fact that the station-wide communications devices were located at so few places. The seconds it took to get up to his quarters seemed to be endless. When he had finally reached them, he called Mrs. Karakova and Veronica to the pool. Although Veronica wasn't exactly friends with Atlantis, she was still the best candidate to calm down the younger woman.

When he returned to the level of the greenhouse, the two women were already there and had assessed the situation.

"Father, can you help me pull Mr. Arezzo out of the pool?" Mrs. Karakova asked and took off her jacket.

Chase nodded and took off his robe as well, leaving on the pants and shirt underneath. Carefully, they got the corpse to the edge of the pool and then pulled it out. Mrs. Karakova turned Ashton on his back and started her examination. The dead actor was a gruesome sight: his eyes were wide open and stared almost accusingly into the hereafter. There were no obvious signs of violence.  
"There's water in his lungs," Mrs. Karakova stated after a few moments. "He drowned. But the questions remains how it came to this."

"He left a confession," Chase said. "And if we don't find any evidence that someone drowned him, then it was suicide. Can you tell how long he's been dead?"

"Not long. He was still alive at lunch, and that was two hours ago. There is also no sign of bloating." She looked up. "Are there cameras on this level?"  
"At the entrance area of the greenhouse, but not right here at the pool, unfortunately," Chase answered. "But no one could have come in here unseen." He stood up and put on his robe again. "If you notice anything else, please tell me. I'll seal off the pool area."

After doing so, he went to Saunders' ex-wives. Veronica had put an arm around the model in a motherly fashion, and although Atlantis was still sobbing, she had calmed down visibly.

The young father took her hand. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She nodded and rubbed at her eyes, smearing her makeup even more. "I went here after lunch to launch under the solarium. Ash joined me, I don't know, half an hour ago," she said in a halting, hoarse voice. "We wanted to go to the parlor. I went into the changing cubicles, and after a few moments, I heard a splash. I called out for Ash, but didn't get an answer. So I came out... and saw Ash drifting in the water, face down. He wasn't moving!"  
"Why didn't you try to pull him out?" the young inquisitor demanded.

The young woman broke down again, sobbing. "I... can't swim! I'm afraid of water! I almost drowned as a little kid, and ever since... oh, Ash!"

There was no use in trying to get more out of her at the moment. Chase looked at her closely – her bikini and her bathing robe were both dry, her hair in perfect condition – just her face was swollen and wet from crying. She definitely hadn't been in the water, so her story held true so far. Last time he had met her at the pool, she had also only been using the solarium and not taken a swim.

Chase looked at Veronica who nodded, silently confirming that she would take care of her former rival. For himself, there was one important task now: inform the AI of the current development and give it the confession as evidence. After that, the station might be back on its way to earth within minutes.

Down in the command center, Tyler – or whoever he really was – and Shaziri were still busy trying to reprogram the computers. While the old businessman was rearranging data on a screen with remarkable speed, Tyler was lying on his back under a panel, working with a tiny instrument.  
"Ashton Arezzo is dead," Chase announced without any preamble as soon as he had reached the bottom of the ladder. "It seems to be suicide. He left a full confession."  
"I've never trusted that fop," Shaziri grumbled. "Let's hope the AI accepts the evidence. We didn't have much luck so far."  
Tyler crawled out from under the panel and rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead; his usually cool demeanor was gone, and he was sweating and shivering. Chase suddenly had grave misgivings about letting him continue to work on sensitive electronics - and not only because of Tyler's current state.  
But first, the new evidence had to be submitted. The artificial face of Saunders appeared on the screen when Chase activated the AI.   
"Do you have new evidence?" it asked.

"The murderer has written a confession," the young inquisitor said and connected the notepad to the computer. "It was Ashton Arezzo. He committed suicide about half an hour ago."

The AI was silent for a moment while it processed the new data, then it announced, "The evidence is not sufficient. Protocol Sunflare remains active."  
Chase fought the urge to slam his hand against the panel. "But there is a confession," he repeated. "And I can give you proof that Arezzo is dead."  
"The confession is no visual or acoustic recording and can therefore be faked," the AI stated. "Even if the possible culprit is dead, this is not sufficient evidence."

"Damn it," Chase whispered and deactivated the AI. He had to find more evidence, but how? Ashton was dead and couldn't be interrogated any more, and of course the evidence could be fake, with the true murderer still running around. 

Only the living could give true answers.

He took a few deep breaths before he looked up again. "Mr. Derringford, I need your help upstairs. Mr. Shaziri, please continue your work. It seems that Arezzo's act of desperation hasn't helped us one bit."

Shaziri just shrugged and promised to try his best, although he wasn't optimistic. 

Chase and Tyler climbed up the ladder to the storage room and from there, took the lift to the level of their quarters. Chase went to Tyler's door straight away and opened it with Kelly's keycard. 

"I found out how the cameras were manipulated. Someone has attached a hack-chip to my computer," the father said, turning around to face Tyler as soon as the door closed behind them. "You were that someone. There is no other explanation. I also analyzed your blood. You are not Tyler Derringford, although I don't know how you could assume his identity. You don't move a muscle while I search your quarters. You know you can't run away on this station."

It was the already familiar flashing in the young man's eyes that warned Chase. He drew his sword as quickly as Tyler had drawn a tiny handgun of unknown design from somewhere on his person, although his clothes were far too tight to conceal anything.

For a few moments they stood there motionless, weapons pointed at each others hearts, waiting for the other to make the first move.  
Suddenly, Tyler's tense face broke into a sardonic smile.

"I'm afraid you forgot something rather important, Father: even your blade made of carbide won't pierce my flexisteel bones."

Then he pulled the trigger.

To be continued...


	28. Interlude VI- Nightshift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And what weapon is that?"  
> Jareen's smile was now that of a cat who had gotten at the cream. "Well, yourself, of course."

~ Secret Headquarters of the Luna Mortis, somewhere in Eden City, May 25th, AD 2667 ~

Tiny carbide projectiles hit the rapidly moving, human-shaped targets with absolute precision. The hits, however, were not in the head or chest area, but at the throat – the most vulnerable area of a human, but also the hardest to target because it was such a small part of the body.

When the last target was "dead", a beeping signal sounded through the now-quiet shooting range, and the hit rate was shown on one of the small screens: 100 %. Next to it, the results of the last five rounds were shown, also with full score. 

Tyrean holstered his weapon. During his last mission, his left hand had been injured, but it was now almost healed and didn't impair his aiming accuracy anymore. Two days ago, he had just managed to get 94 %, an unsatisfying quota. 

"You seem to be back on your usual level," a familiar female voice suddenly remarked behind him. Tyrean knew that Jareen had been watching him for quite a while. He hadn't heard her coming in (a feet which he had not yet accomplished even after all these years), but his instinct told him when someone was standing behind him. 

"Seems so," he agreed and balled his left hand to a fist a few times. The newly-healed skin was still a bit lighter, but the muscles underneath were back to full strength. Then he turned to face Jareen. "I hate burns."

She was leaning against the back wall of the shooting range, wearing her usual off-duty clothing: comfortably wide black pants and a tight top. Her long, pale-blonde hair was tied to a loose bun at the top of her head. She looked, as always, like a lounging wild cat. 

"I know, you prefer shot wounds," she remarked dryly. "But I really wish you'd try a bit harder to avoid getting injured altogether. Every time you get back from a mission, the doctors have to patch you up. And why the heck did you have to put your bare hand into a power distribution like a damn idiot? You should have known that it gets fried."

"It was the quickest way to disable the alarm. I couldn't take the risk that it might go off. But I still don't know why you're nagging me again. The mission was a success, like always: files stolen, computer system deactivated, the stuff needed to blackmail the business rival gone, and no one noticed anything until the next morning." Tyrean's eyes narrowed. "The security guard walked right past me and didn't see me. I didn't even have to knock him out."

"I know, I know. I got your report," Jareen replied. "You work was flawless. But the fact remains that you're too careless with your health. What if you get severely injured on a mission, and the inquisition catches you? You would have no choice but to self-destruct."

Aside from having the free choice of getting heavy augmentation, each Luna Mortis operative was obliged to have three standard modifications: remove their fingerprints, change their retina print into a blank print, and install a tiny bomb into the back of their neck. When caught, the agent activated the bomb via thought control, turning everything in a one meter-radius around his body into dust. This way, an operative could not be questioned, and secret technology like the blank print could not fall into the hand of their captor. 

"I'm not that stupid," Tyrean sneered. "And I won't get myself killed on a mission. So please stop talking about this, Jareen."

She sighed and decided to drop the matter. It was no use. "Well, how about we talk about your next mission?"

Tyrean lifted an eyebrow. "Hopefully something more interesting than all this industrial espionage I did recently."

"Oh, you can bet on it." She pulled a notepad from under her arm and gave it to him. "Here are all the details. You'll go undercover for an assassination on a space station in a few days. Frankly, I envy you a bit, but this job can only be done by a man. And you have to be prepared for some dangerous circumstances. There's an inquisitor of the Church involved."

"And why should I care? Inquisitors a mostly chosen for their brutality and not for their brains." Tyrean made no comment on the information about going into space. A job was a job.

"Not this time," Jareen told him. "He'll already be in place to prevent your paranoid target from getting killed, so he'll be alert to anything unusual. Luckily, we already have some intel on this inquisitor. He was seen in several illegal establishments, most recently in dear Isabelle's Red Horizon Inn." Jareen's smile broadened. "He seems to be collecting information undercover, but then he vanishes into a room with one of the prostitutes. I spoke with some of them – he didn't question them at all, but just enjoyed the night like any other client."

"And how is that helpful for me?" Tyrean wasn't impressed. "I know better than anyone that the Church is full of hypocrites."

"Those prostitutes were men," Jareen replied. "And you also know how the Church's opinion is on same-sex preferences. This information could be the end for our dear inquisitor, and you have some leverage for emergency situations. Even more, you have the perfect weapon to distract that guy so you can do your job without problems."

"And what weapon is that?"

Jareen's smile was now that of a cat who had gotten at the cream. "Well, yourself, of course."

 

Tyrean was a professional, so he wouldn't have dreamed of protesting. The idea of being a honey trap was a new one, but he had gone undercover before, flirting with women in the process, so he didn't imagine it much different with a man. 

Nevertheless, Jareen insisted on sending him to Isabelle's for the right outfits and some additional advice on how to behave. That evening, Tyrean found himself sitting in one of the private parlors of the Red Horizon Inn, surrounded by the lady of the house as well as two of her male employees. They had already entertained that inquisitor – Charles Holloway, Tyrean remembered the name from the file – so they could tell him what the man liked. Just looking at the two young men, Tyrean could well imagine that man's preferences – both were slender, pretty, boyish, and, for the lack of a better word, easy access. There was nothing elegant or refined in their skimpy outfits, painted faces and brightly colored hair – one electric blue, the other fiery red with black streaks. This inquisitor definitely had bad taste. 

"Oh, I love those glowing green eyes! They'll stay like this, right?," the blue-haired one squealed, looking at Tyrean. "What about your hair?"

"The natural color should be chestnut brown," Tyrean replied, remembering the picture of Tyler Derringford. "The rest is up to you, I guess."

"Chin length, and with green streaks!" the redhead shouted. "And mostly green, black, and... let's see, dark violet for your outfits. It'll look good enough to eat! And of course lots of eyeliner! Charlie will love it!"

Tyrean fought the urge to roll his eyes. That idiot had told those whores his real name? 

"Yes, whatever. Just see to it that I can still move in those clothes."

Red and Blue giggled like a pair of schoolgirls. "Oh, that's no problem. We do some interesting... movements in our clothes all the time. And the best is that you'll be able to get out of them very quickly!"

"Boys, back to topic please!" Isabelle called, but her smile was cheeky. "What else does T have to know about Mr. Charlie?"

"He loves a little challenge," Blue said, and Red nodded. "Show your interest, but make it not that easy, you know? Oh, and he has a thing for sensual movement, but which man doesn't?"

Tyrean's eyebrows went to his hairline. Slutty clothing and makeup, alright. Playing hard to get, alright. But sensual movement? Did he have to pole-dance or what?

"T, sweetheart, why don't you walk for us once the boys have gotten you in one of the outfits?" Isabelle suggested. "A disguise isn't worth anything if it's not fitting with the way you move and behave."

He had no choice, and Isabelle was right, of course. Tyrean got up from the overstuffed love-seat he had been sitting in and followed Blue and Red, still giggling, to the adjacent dressing room to change his elegant three-piece suit for one of the outfits the boys had prepared. The shiny, tight materials were surprisingly easy to put on and didn't restrict his movements, but it would take some getting used to looking down on his own person and see the naked skin of his hipbones and part of his chest and upper legs. 

The boys, however, were happy with their work and shooed him out again to get looked over by Isabelle. She nodded approvingly. "Now let's see how you move."

Tyrean felt a bit stupid walking across the room, but he reminded himself that this was training for the job. Sensual movement... all he could think of was the way Jareen moved – silently, gracefully, and seemingly slow without being truly slow. 

A low whistle of appreciation let him turn around suddenly. A man was leaning in the door frame, smiling at him. He was tall and well-muscled with black hair, wearing a simple black top and pants. Tyrean decided that he was also a prostitute and not a bouncer. 

"What is it, Jordan?" Isabelle asked the stranger in mild irritation. "I told you we are not to be disturbed."

"Mr. Big-Purse is downstairs, asking for you," Jordan said, nodding at Blue. "Didn't know you were doing auditions today, Boss," he continued when the boy hastily got up and vanished through the door. "Do hire him on the spot, will you?"

"Jordan, sweetheart, I think that's still my place to decide," Isabelle warned him. "But since you're here anyway, let's do some rehearsals. T, darling, let's pretend Jordan here is your target, and you'll have to impress him."

"Didn't we agree I should play hard to get?" Tyrean asked.

"Oh, come on," Jordan urged, stepping closer. "I don't bite, gorgeous."

For a moment, Tyrean was confused. Was there true interest in that man's eyes? Women he could read, but their soft, breathless interest was very different to the smoldering heat in Jordan's dark eyes. It took Tyrean a few seconds before he knew what to do. He also took a step toward Jordan, giving him the same once-over look he had gotten moments ago.

"But I do," he finally replied with a slight smile, walking past him. "Madam, are we done?"

"Yes, I believe so." Isabelle looked very satisfied. "You can change back, if you like. You're a natural."

 

When Tyrean had left the room together with the redhead, Jordan flopped down next to his boss. 

"Alright, that was no audition," he corrected his former assumption. "He wanted advice on how to seduce someone special, right?"

"Something like that", Isabelle allowed. "So, what do you think?"

"I think the targeted guy won't know what hit him, the lucky one," Jordan grinned. "But maybe I should offer some... additional lessons? I wouldn't mind at all, and I'd hate to see that little ice queen run off completely unprepared. With those looks, I have no idea how he can still be a virgin at that age."

Now it was Isabelle's turn to raise eyebrows. "You call tell?"

"Of course. But I guess he's the type to save himself for the special someone." Jordan leaned back in the seat. "Tell him I'll be here if it doesn't work out with that guy. It won't be the end of the world."

 

To be continued...


	29. Chapter 12 - Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And why all this? Why did you want to kill Saunders?" Suddenly, Chase's whole world seemed to depend on that question. "What's your motive?"

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 8th, AD 2667, afternoon, about half an hour later – 5 ½ days left~

With a grown, Chase slowly came to. His head was aching, and his vision somewhat blurry, but he seemed to be unharmed otherwise. An ultrasound weapon, set on stun, his foggy mind supplied. As he tried to move, Chase noticed that his hands were tied to head of the bed he was lying on. The thin metal handcuffs painfully cut themselves into his flesh as he pulled. 

"You should stop that. The cuffs easily cut the circulation off." The strange young man Chase had believed to be Tyler Derringford was standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed, unnerving green eyes fixed on him. Chase's foldable sword was hanging from his belt. 

"Damn it, what are you doing?" the young inquisitor growled. "If you think there's any use in taking me hostage to get away with murder..."

"I don't intend to," the stranger interrupted him, voice calm. "And if I would have wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. I want you to listen to me very carefully. Fact is that we have to work together if we want to get this station back to earth."

"Indeed – I need you to report all that you have done to the AI: you manipulated the security system. You smuggled a second grade-weapon aboard capable of EMP and ultrasound blasts. And you killed Carl Saunders, blamed Arezzo somehow and murdered him as well!" Chase angrily pulled at his cuffs again and felt them cutting into his skin. Blood ran down his arms and into the satin cushions.

"I've neither killed Saunders nor Arezzo. But I knew you wouldn't believe me," the young man replied, his former calm fading again. "And I won't give a false confession because it won't help us. We have to find clues for Ashton being the real killer. Unfortunately, I didn't recognize him that night at Saunders' apartment."

Chase stared at him. "What?"

That got him a disgusted look. "I was already in Saunders' quarters when the murder took place. I was just inside when I heard the lift, so I quickly hid in the bedroom. The person could just walk through the door I had opened, and stabbed Saunders. Then suddenly, Kelly appeared and surprised him. He slammed her against the desk and flew. As soon as he was gone, I returned to my quarters."

"And why all this? Why did you want to kill Saunders?" Suddenly, Chase's whole world seemed to depend on that question. "What's your motive?"

"Motive? He was just a job. And then this damned actor screwed it all up with his stupid love story – not to mention Saunders' neat little trick with Protocol Sunflare. Otherwise, you would have no clue now who had done it because it would have been an accident – a big fire. Burned droids, burned locks, burned Saunders. But this way, I had no time to cover my tracks. And Arezzo was sloppy in not killing Kelly. If she wakes up, she might identify him."

Chase's ears were ringing. "And who gave you this assignment? Who is the black king? The one behind all this?"

The young man gave a derisive snort. "I've already told you far too much. But I want you to believe me. This is how things happened. "

"And the real Tyler Derringford? What happened to him?" Chase demanded. "Did you kill him to take his place?"

"He was already dead," was the cold reply. "He didn't survive the plane crash. Even Derringford senior doesn't know. Since he can't stand his son, he was easily fooled with some video feeds."

Chase took a deep breath. "And how do I call you now?"

The stranger stepped closer, leaning down until their noses almost touched. Once again, Chase noticed the metallic smell.

"Just keep calling me Ty," he whispered. His fingers carefully touched Chase's hurt wrist, gathering some blood, and then wet Chase's lips with it – exactly like the Church's clerics did to bless the followers during mass with holy water. The young father felt a cold shudder run down his back. He wasn't squeamish or pious, but this felt somehow blasphemous.

Ty quickly drew back. "I'll take off the handcuffs now. And I suggest you don't try anything foolish like attacking me." Then he touched a tiny button on an even tinier device at his belt that just looked like a decorative fastening.

Chase felt the handcuffs open and slowly sat up, rubbing his aching wrists. "If you truly want me to believe even one word you said, you'll have to give me back my sword and hand over that weapon of yours."

"Here's your sword." Ty threw it to him. "As I said, you can't hurt me with it, but if you have to try, be my guest. And you can look all you like for my weapon - you won't find it."

The young inquisitor caught his weapon and fastened it to his own belt, silently vowing to never lose it again.

"So you want to tell me that you really have flexisteel stabilizers in your bones? But if you didn't have an accident like the real Tyler, then..."

Now Ty was laughing at him, although his eyes stayed cold. "You're really slow."

There was only one logical explanation. "You have illegal augmentations!" Chase accused him. "I should have known when you jumped down that ladder... And you have that legendary Blank Print as well, right? How could you let this be done to yourself? How could you defile your pure body, given to you by the Light?" He thought of all the barely visible surgical scars covering Ty's body. They must have cut him open and sown him back together like a rag doll... the thought was horrible.

Tyler shrugged. "Tools of the trade. Don't look so offended, Chase. Not so long ago you were very eager to touch that 'defiled' body of mine."

Chase thankfully didn't blush. "Don't change the subject! Even if I would believe that you didn't kill Saunders or Arezzo - which I still don't – then I'll have to hand you over to the Inquisition for violating the purity laws. And you can't run from me here on this station."

"Of course I can." Ty's eyes were mere slits in the dim light of the room. "I can outrun and outsmart an inquisitor like you anytime, even without..." He stopped abruptly, and Chase suddenly understood.

"Without your drug, you wanted to say? So you really are depending on technomin-C, aren't you?" he stated gleefully, finally feeling like he got the upper hand. "That's why you didn't kill me. You can't do this alone, and you want to get off this station alive as much as we others."

"I just hate collateral damage because it's unprofessional," Ty replied, but didn't attempt to protest. "Don't you dare to believe that you've found a weakness! And now get up, we have more important things to do."

But Chase knew that he had found a weak spot, a flaw in Ty's armor. He got up from the bed, and as Ty turned around to leave the room, he grabbed his arm. Once again, the young assassin's fighting reflexes kicked in, but this time, the inquisitor was prepared. He used a move he had learned to bring down much heavier opponents, and it worked – at least partially. Both their strength working against each other and threw both young men off their feet, letting them drop back on the bed. Chase quickly rolled around so he wouldn't be crushed and found himself on top of Ty. In the process, he had accidentally pushed up Ty's top, and his thumbs were now brushing against bare skin. 

Ty's breath caught for a moment before he stared up at Chase in genuine surprise, annoyance, and something else, something undefinable – maybe the first real emotions besides anger. Chase felt cold, clammy skin shiver under his fingers and realized that the technomin-depravation truly was his best ally at the moment.

"This is important," the young inquisitor insisted quietly. "If we don't clear things up between us, how can we work together?"

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Ty looked at him like a cornered animal. "Do you want to lead me back into the Church's loving arms? I know that the only way to redeem myself in their eyes is to accept death by their hands!"

"Maybe we can remove those augmentations. It might not be too late for you. The Light..."

"Shut up and save yourself the pity speech!" Ty hissed. His breath was quick, almost panicked but he didn't make a move to free himself, and his eyes were still filled with cold fury. "I'm not a black sheep in your flock! And maybe this is all still part of my plan!"

"That's a risk I'd be willing to take," Chase replied. He leaned down closer to Ty, noticing the strong metallic scent. No, it was blood. His or Ty's – he didn't know. "You tricked me once, but that's over. All your plans have failed, and all for the better. You should accept it."

"You should know that faith is hard to kill... Chase," Ty whispered breathlessly. He was shaking heavily now, but still tried to suppress is. Before Chase realized what he was doing, he had pushed Ty's top further up – right there where naked skin had been teasing him for days now. His fingers brushed over the contours of a hip bone, the hard planes of a toned belly.

A quiet gasp and a dark shadow over Ty's cheeks were his reward, although the hostile gaze remained.

"Careful there. Or do you want to pile more sins on your conscience?" The warning held no true emphasis.

"Too late for that," Chase replied, and it was true. His feelings were in too much disarray to logically analyze them, but he knew one thing: augmented assassin or not, the attraction towards Ty was still in place. He should have been repulsed, but he wasn't.

Firmly looking into those cold, glowing eyes, Chase leaned down and kissed Ty. 

To be continued...


	30. Chapter 13 Part I - Skin-deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I still don't trust you any more than you trust me," he finally said. "But this is getting us nowhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry guys, but I have to break up chapters again so I can continue to update regularly. I know the parts are small, but I think it's better than waiting a full month for an update. I hope to catch up with writing and tranlating so I can give you bigger chunks of the story again soon. Thanks for understanding!

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 8th, AD 2667 – 5 ½ days left~

If Chase had thought that their first – and not even real - kiss had been breathtaking, he had to admit that didn't have any idea at all. Ty seemed to have lost control now, and his shaking body pressed against Chase's. The taste of blood was overwhelming, mixed with the artificial cherry aroma of Ty's lip gloss. 

This was all wrong. The young assassin represented everything the Church was fighting against. And still Chase couldn't help but desire him with all his being. He should have been horrified of himself, but he didn't care - and this fact was more terrifying than anything else. 

It was indeed too late. If Ty was damned, so was Chase.

Without breaking the kiss, Chase pushed Ty's clothing further up. The thin material was easily moved, even the many buckles and straps were just decorative and didn't need to be opened. Chase's fingers ran down Ty's chest, feeling the barely visible scars on the cold skin. 

Ty gasped, breaking the kiss, and some lucidity crept back into his eyes. "Get off me, or I'll break your neck," he hissed.

Chase just smiled darkly. "If you really meant that, you would have done so already. If I know something real about you, then it's the fact that you're not so stupid as to announce your attack."

"You know nothing about me, Father." He emphasized the title. "But I know a lot about you and your special interest in cheaply dressed young men in shady establishments. Or did you really think that I've dressed up like a slut just for the fun of it? I knew you would be easily distracted."

Chase tried to hide his surprise. How could Ty know of that? And if he knew, who else did?

"Are you trying to blackmail me?" he asked with a frown.

"Yes, I do. If your superiors knew about this, they'd throw you in the deepest hole they can find. Your precious career would be over, and probably even your life. You don't want that, do you? I told you that I can escape you any time."

"I don't think so." Chase might have been burning with desire, but he wasn't so stupid as to fall for the same trick twice. He quickly grabbed the thin handcuffs that were still lying on the cushion and slammed them on Ty's wrists.

Before Ty could react, he had snatched the little device from his belt. The controls were familiar, although he had never seen such a small version. With a 'click', the cuffs magnetically attached themselves to the bed's metal headpiece.

The young inquisitor couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction by seeing Ty caught in the exact same way he had been minutes ago. The tables definitely had been turned this time. 

Hot fury was burning in young assassin's gaze as he struggled against the cuffs. 

"You should stop that. The cuffs easily cut the circulation off," Chase repeated Ty's own words mockingly. "Now you tell me where you have hidden your weapon."

But the young assassin wasn't about to answer. He balled his fists and pulled at the cuffs with all his strength. Blood was seeping from his wrists, mingling with Chase's own on the cushions. The metal bonds gave a strange sound as they were strained to the limit.

And with no little horror the young father realized that Ty wouldn't stop until either the metal broke or his hands were cut off - like an animal in a trap gnawing of its own paw to be free. 

"Damnit, stop that!" Chase grabbed Ty's hands and pushed them back into the mattress, putting all his body weight into it. "I'm starting to think that you actually enjoy getting hurt! Listen, I don't intend to hold you here, but I need your weapon! It's an important piece of evidence, and I can't have you running around with something that dangerous – not that you're harmless without weapons to begin with. But if you truly didn't kill Saunders and if you help me get us back to earth alive, I give you my word that I'll turn a blind eye if you escape. As you said yourself: we're in this together!"

Ty still stared up to him in anger, but his struggling ceased. Chase let go, his own hands now bloody. "We have to get patched up," he stated. "But I can handle that. Mrs. Karakova is starting to get suspicious."

With slippery fingers, he managed to operate the control device to open the cuffs. Ty visibly bit down on his lip as the metal embedded into his skin loosened. There was a lot of blood, and Chase suddenly feared that the cuffs had cut into the artery. He quickly went into the bathroom, grabbing the first-aid kit from there. As he passed the huge mirror hanging over the sink, he was horrified at his own reflection: his usually pristine white robes were splattered with blood, and his hands looked as if he had been the one doing the killing.

This was how a sinner looked. 

But there was no time for that. He quickly returned to Ty who was clutching his wrists to stop the blood flow. The first-aid kit contained some sturdy bandages, and Chase got to work. When he was sure that no blood was seeping through, he took a look at his own wrists. The injury was only minor, so he could just use the skin regenerator until only a faint pink ring around his wrists remained. 

Ty hadn't moved from the bed, just sitting there, his face pale. He was surely in a lot of pain, but tried to hide it as usual. 

"I still don't trust you any more than you trust me," he finally said. "But this is getting us nowhere."

"No, it isn't," Chase agreed. "I need that weapon, Ty. The AI surely wants to know how the security system was damaged and how that weapon got aboard. What should I tell it?"

Ty hesitated for a moment before he stretched out his right leg and pulled up his pants to reveal the skin on his upper leg. Chase could only stare in morbid fascination as Ty touched a set of scars there that formed a perfect rectangular, and the skin simply lifted like the lid of a box. Underneath was a metal compartment, and Ty pulled out the small weapon he had used to stun Chase. Then the skin closed seamlessly again.

"Here." Ty put the weapon down on the bed. "Still eager to get into my pants, Father?" he asked dryly. "This is a biointegral compartment, and as you've probably guessed, it's an illegal augmentation. Security scanners don't penetrate it. Just tell the AI that Ashton has such a compartment. You can also put the weapon into his hands to get his fingerprints on it. I have none."

There was only one thing Chase wanted to know. "Does it hurt?"

Ty shook his head. "The nerves were removed there."

Chase just fished a painkiller from the first-aid kit and gave it to Ty. He might not admit it, but he was hurting.

Then he carefully took up the weapon and wrapped it up in a piece of cloth. At least this was a solid piece of evidence.

"You stay here and rest," he ordered Ty as he got up from the bed, and for once, didn't earn any protest.

To be continued...


	31. Chapter 13 Part II - Skin-deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So everything pointed to suicide.

As Ty had suggested, Chase went to the pool area to get Ashton's fingerprints after a shower and a change of clothes. It was tampering with evidence, he knew that, but all that counted at the moment was persuading the AI to accept Arezzo as the murderer. When Protocol Sunflare was deactivated, Chase could worry about finding real evidence without impeding death hanging over all their heads. 

Contrary to its former statement, the AI wasn't all-knowing and easily accepted the weapon and Chase's story about the biointegral compartment.   
"Can you deactivate Protocol Sunflare now?" Chase asked.

"Although the chain of evidence is logical so far," Saunders' digital image stated, "this is not enough to prove that Ashton Arezzo is the murderer. Do you have more evidence?"

"Not at the moment," the young inquisitor murmured and deactivated the screen. What he really needed, was a witness. Maybe Atlantis had noticed Ashton leaving their room at night? She had been in no state to answer any question right after Ashton's death, but tomorrow she might be able to make a useful statement. 

Tomorrow... Chase felt like this had been the longest day of his life, and it wasn't even over yet.

 

"After you left, I've examined Mr. Arezzo's body as thoroughly as possible," Natalia Karakova told Chase when he met her in the parlor ten minutes later. None of the others guests were present – the second death on the station seemed to have put a permanent stop to all social activities. "As I said, there was water in his lungs, leading to a death by asphyxiation. But I've never heard of a case where a person drowned himself in a pool that's not even seven feet deep in a matter of seconds. The survival instincts of the body are usually too strong. He must have dived down and taken a deep breath, and that takes a very cool head – or a drugged one."

"Drugged?"

"I can't make a reliable blood test with our limited resources here," Natalia replied. "But I think it's possible."

Chase nodded. "Thanks for your help."

Although he was bone-tired, Chase didn't go to sleep right away. Back in his room, he sat down in front of his computer and looked at the video feed of the pool's surveillance camera. Atlantis' statement was true: the model entered the area in her bathing gown, about half an hour later Ashton followed.

Chase turned the video to slow motion. The young actor seemed calm and collected, no nervous movements. 

The following scenes were also as expected: Atlantis running toward the lift, almost tripping and falling down in her haste. Moments later, Chase saw himself returning with her.

Everything was as it should be, and there was no evidence of another person present. Chase nevertheless scanned the hours before Atlantis showed up, but the whole day nobody had come to the pool. 

So everything pointed to suicide.

But Chase wasn't convinced. Maybe someone else had drugged Ashton and had reprogrammed his datapad to show a false confession?   
Maybe it had been Atlantis? 

Chase sighed. And maybe he was just seeing ghosts. He knew that the model wasn't as air-headed as she acted, but why would she kill her own boyfriend – unless she was the real killer? Or had Ashton taken the blame for her out of love?

Nevertheless, he had to concentrate on proving Ashton's guilt for now.

Chase still had the datapad with the confession with him that that the AI hadn't fully accepted as evidence. He put it on his desk without touching it with his bare fingers and used the scanner to identify any fingerprints. As he had expected, there were two sets: Ashton's and an unknown set. Maybe Tina's? He had to get her prints tomorrow.

So the model could have been the one to manipulate the message. Or she could have touched the pad days or weeks before for completely harmless reasons. 

Chase hated this case.

To be continued...


	32. Interlude VII - Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrean took a deep breath. He didn't want to think of this, but he couldn't help it.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 8th, AD 2667, shortly after midnight ~

Tyrean never had any trouble sleeping. Usually, he was out like a light the moment his head touched the pillow, although the faintest noise woke him up again, ready to fight. Since he had been living on the street as a kid, this habit had never changed.

Now, he was tossing and turning, feeling the satiny sheets rub against his skin with every movement as if they were made of sandpaper. Ever since his medi-chip had been damaged, sensation had crept back into his body bit by bit. At first, he hadn't really noticed, but all of a sudden, the full force of it was hitting him. Tyrean had almost forgotten how it felt, but he was sure that his sense of touch had never been his hyper-acute. No doubt it was a side-effect of the technomin failing. 

Why the hell was all of this happening? Why had he been given this assignment of all people? Why had this bastard Saunders decided to kill everyone aboard the station if the murderer wasn't found in time? Why had Tyrean been so careless, breaking the medi-chip? Why hadn't he thought of taking spare technomin with him?

And why in hell did the stupid inquisitor he had been prepared to distract had to be Chase, of all people?

Tyrean had always tried to banish the memory of his beloved older brother from his mind, the only person in the world who had supposedly loved him. But it had been a lie. Chase had gone to become an inquisitor of the Church and had never looked back. He wasn't any better than the rest.

Tyrean had seen the picture of Father Charles Holloway when Jareen had give him his assignment, but he hadn't recognized him. There was nothing familiar in that stern, albeit attractive face, accentuated by a thin beard. Not even the name had rang a bell – Tyrean had never known Chase's family name or even the fact that his first name was short for Charles. 

But then, the moment at the pool. That moment of realization.

"Speaking of names, do you have a first name at all? Or has the title 'Father' become your first name already?"

"That can happen rather quickly. My name is Chase. Well, it's actually Charles, but nobody has ever called me that."

Tyrean had been in full control of himself back then and kept his shock to himself. Or rather, it hadn't been a real shock, just an uncomfortable surprise, but no reason to change his plans. After all, his Chase was just a distant memory, and a false one on top.

But now, it was different.

"Damn it all," Tyrean murmured and got up from the bed. Like a caged animal, he paced back and forth, thinking about the situation. They had to catch the real killer, and Tyrean couldn't risk exposing himself any further in the process, so he had to continue playing his part. After all, it had worked well so far.

Catching his reflection in the mirror, Tyrean stopped and stared at it. He didn't like mirrors. He knew how important it was to look the right part for a job, but aside from that, he avoided looking into them for too long. Jareen had once asked him it this had anything to do with his augmentations or the way he had to be disguised for an assignment, but even before, he had always avoided looking at himself.

Tyrean turned away. 

He was a professional. And this was still an assignment although the circumstances had changed. 

Finally, he sat back on his bed. The stars outside the windows were slowly moving, reminding him of the involuntary journey toward the sun. A journey into the light... now if that wasn't irony of fate.

But there was no Light, only darkness.

Tyrean absently rubbed at the bandages around his wrist. The painkillers had worn off, and the skin throbbed. Touching it only made it worse, but he didn't stop.

It hurt. 

He had almost forgotten how that felt. And he hated it.

He still cursed himself for being so stupid as to struggle against the cuffs. He really didn't need another injury on top of those he already had. Jareen would have given him an earful again.

But it had been a reflex. 

Tyrean squeezed his left wrist, feeling the tendons move under his fingers as he balled his hand to a fist. Those memories of his childhood at the orphanage, already floating back to the surface at the unexpected reunion with Chase, had come back full-force. Nasty memories, connected with ties digging into his wrists, utter helplessness, and shame.

Tyrean took a deep breath. He didn't want to think of this, but he couldn't help it.

Two years after Chase had left the orphanage, old Father Reighley had retired, leaving the management of the orphanage to a much younger and more strict man, Father Jameson. Tyrean's rebellious manner had instantly antagonized the man, but instead of punishing the boy by giving him cleaning tasks, like Reighley had done, Jameson had decided on a more deterrent method. 

Every time Tyrean had been disobedient, Jameson had tied him to a thin tree in the orphanage's little garden and strapped him with a belt, while the other children had to watch. 

After the first time this had happened, no other kid had dared to disobey, and the orphanage had become a place of silent fear.

But instead of laying low and at least trying to behave, Tyrean's anger at this treatment and hate for the new Father forced him to make even more trouble than before. For the next four years, his back and wrists had constantly been bruised. But the beating had never been the worst. It was the helplessness, the feeling of being completely at someone's mercy who enjoyed hurting and humiliating him.

"It's no wonder that your real parents didn't want you," Jameson had always said, accentuating every second word with a blow. "They must have felt the evil in you. And no decent person will ever adopt you! You're a child of darkness, and not even wearing the name of a saint can change that! And that boy you're always talking about will never come back for you! Why should he? He's gone to become a faithful servant of the Light and won't stoop so low as to taint himself with your presence again!"

Tyrean had always bit down on his lip to keep himself from screaming, telling himself over and over again that Jameson was lying.  
Chase at least loved him! And he would come back!

But that bastard Jameson had been right with everything. No one had come to get him: no foster parents, no Chase. 

No one had wanted him – until he had met Jareen.

There had been a lot of moments since recognizing Chase when he had wanted to shout the truth into his face. Tyrean wanted to grab Chase and yell at him for abandoning him, for forgetting him.

"I'll always love you. And I won't forget you, Tyrean. Ever."

For being a liar.

And now this strange new tension between them. Of course Chase was exactly where Tyrean had wanted to him to be – distracted by his lust, although he had claimed to have seen through the whole plan. But it hadn't been part of the plan that...

Tyrean felt goosebumps on his bare skin and squeezed his injured wrist even tighter, feeling hot wetness under his fingers. 

But all the pain in the world couldn't make him forget. That burning kiss, scorching his lips... those hot hands on his cold skin, touching and exploring... 

It had been all wrong, and yet Tyrean had caught himself forgetting everything in that moment. For just one second, all he had wanted was for Chase to continue – despite the fact that they were enemies and in mortal danger. Even after everything that had happened, this was still Chase, his Chase, the boy with the gentle eyes and warm embrace, caring and and full of light.

That light and warmth was still there, no matter if it had been real back then. And it had turned into a very real fire.

The question wasn't if Tyrean was afraid to be burned. He wasn't. The real question was if he wanted to.

"Damn it all to hell", he whispered into the darkness. 

To be continued...


	33. Chapter 14 Part I – Pieces of a Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it was at last, a witness' statement.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 9th, AD 2667 – 4 ½ days left ~

Chase wished that he could stay in bed forever. He felt sore all over, and although a hot shower got rid of that quickly, the inner tenderness he felt wasn't this easily remedied. Even the excellent coffee he had so gotten used to tasted too bitter this morning. 

Nevertheless, there was much work to do. His first task was to stop by Atlantis' and Ashton's quarters. The model was still in her nightgown, and even the permanent makeup couldn't cover the paleness of her face, but she greeted him calmly and let him in.

"I... I really don't know how all of this could happen," she said with a shaky voice when the young inquisitor gently urged her to tell her about Ashton's death and his confession. "Ash was angry with Carl about the wedding and got impatient – I already told you about it. But I didn't take it seriously. That he would kill Carl because of this..." 

"He seemed to have loved you more than his own life," Chase said softly. "But his sacrifice will be in vain if we don't stop Protocol Sunflare. We have to find solid proof for Ashton's guilt. What about this wrist watch with a record scanner he talked about? He didn't have it on his person."

"It's here." Atlantis handed him an elegant and doubtlessly expensive watch. Chase took it and checked the memory. Although it didn't record the feed it received, it showed the date and time it was last used – matching the time of the murder.

"And can you remember anything from the night Mr. Saunders was killed? Anything unusual?" he asked.

"No, I slept very soundly," she started, but then frowned. "But I woke up when Ashton left the bedroom sometime during the night. I thought he just wanted to go to the bathroom of fetch himself something to drink, so I turned over and fell asleep again. Ash woke me up again when you called us all to tell us about Carl's death."

Here it was at last, a witness' statement. 

"You'll have to come with me to the control center to tell the AI", Chase told her. "Maybe this is the final piece of the puzzle we need."

 

"Do you have new data?" Saunders' artificial self asked when Chase activated it. 

"Yes, I have. This is the statement of witness Tina Ludwig. Miss Atlantis, please repeat what you told me."

The model looked a bit shocked by the sight, but then started to retell her tale. 

When she had ended, the AI stated, "New evidence is accepted. Do you have any further proof that Ashton Arezzo left his room during the night of the murder?"

Chase took the watch out of his pocket and connected it to the computer. "As stated in his confession, he used the watch's record scanner to check that the cameras weren't recording."

"New evidence is accepted."

The young father took a deep breath. "Can you deactivate Protocol Sunflare now?" 

"Although the chain of evidence is logical so far, it it still not sufficient. Do you have more data?" The AI replied calmly.

"Not at the moment," Chase hissed, resisting the urge to ball his fist and hit the screen.

"That means... we're not going home yet?" Atlantis whispered. "Please, Father, you have to do something!"

"I promised to get us back to earth safely, and I will," he answered as calmly as possibly, turning around to grab her shoulders reassuringly. "And there is still some time left. Let's get you back into your rooms, and I'll continue my work."

She sniffed and nodded. "Okay."

 

Chase had no idea how to continue. If proving Ashton's guilt didn't work, they had to find another way to circumvent the AI. He met up with Abdul el Shaziri in the kitchen for breakfast. In between bites of eggs and ham, the old businessman told him about his findings.

"As I said before, the AI is an ancient device by today's standards. Ever since the research on robots, androids, and the like was given up, a lot of knowledge has been lost. Carl, old-fashioned and distrustful of people that he was, built in a lot of security fail-safes around it. If we try to manipulate it, we might make it worse."

"And what about trying to get access to the station's engines directly?" Chase asked. 

"I'm not sure," Shaziri answered, taking a sip of his strong tea. "The main controls at the command center are all directly linked to the AI. Our only chance might be to get to the engines directly and try our luck there. But I'm warning you: getting there is not easy."

Case pulled out a data pad and showed Shaziri the station's layout. "I'm no engineer. Where are they located?"

The old man pointed a greasy finger at the three extenders at the bottom of the station. "Extender A you already know: it's the control room," he said. "In extender B are the life support and recycling systems for air, heat, light, water, and waste. Extender C holds the engine room."

"That means that since the space station is built completely symmetrical, the access to B and C should also be on the lowest level." Chase frowned. "But I didn't see any other hatches there."

"That's because there are none," Sharizi grumbled. "As I told you before, Carl delighted in telling me all about the station's technical details. I guess he must have known that I can't use them to kill him," he added dryly. "He said that he had sealed off those parts of the station so no one could have access. Down there are small maintenance robots that act on simple programming to repair any damage. And no, they don't have an interface to be controlled remotely. You must tear open the floor to get down there – right here." He zoomed in on the floor plan and marked the spots. 

"Great." Chase rubbed the bridge of his nose. He remembered a few tools down at the storage level, but nothing for heavy work like this. And there was no weapon to melt down metal aboard the ship. 

Or was there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, I'll have to take a break from posting "Sanctuary" since I've reached the end of already written chapters and don't have much time at the moment to continue writing. Updates will resume on June 23rd.


	34. Chapter 14 Part II – Pieces of a Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have to drag everything into the mud, don't you?" Chase shot back. "And frankly, I have no idea why I'm even telling you all this."  
> "I do," Ty replied calmly over the hissing of the welding equipment. "You don't have anyone else you can be honest with. I already know all your worst secrets."

Half an hour later, Chase was waiting for Ty on the storage level. He had gotten the second grade weapon back; since the AI had taken it as evidence, it didn't seem interested in keeping it – or simply trusting Chase to keep it. The more he saw of the AI's work, the more the young inquisitor realized how flawed it was in its core. A real person wouldn't have done that. 

When Ty finally stepped out of the lift, he looked his old self again: tight, shiny clothes, perfect makeup, a cold expression. It took Chase a moment to realize that this was of course not Ty's old self, but merely his old disguise. 

"I need your help," he stated. "In order to access the engines directly, we have to tear a hole into the floor. I was hoping your little weapon had another hidden function that could be useful."

Ty arched an eyebrow. "You really think I brought a weapon that can melt metal onto a space station? Besides, any weapon capable of that needs a blaster core, and they're too big to fit into this little thing. It has only an impulse core for EMP and sonic blasts."

Chase suppressed a curse. When this was all over, he really had to do some penance for all his recent swearing. "Well, there goes that idea. I found some welding equipment down here, but only for minor repairs. I doubt we can break through inches of solid steel with that." The young father showed him a rectangular marking he had made on the floor. "The entrance is right here, according to Mr. Shaziri."

The assassin knelt down and traced the smooth steel with his fingers. "There is a welding seam. If we apply pressure at the right points, we may get through. Hand me that welding equipment."

Since he saw no point in arguing, Chase handed him the little device and a pair of goggles. He suddenly felt useless, watching Ty get to work. The steadiness of his hands was back, but there was an especially large pair of decorative wristbands in place, reminding Chase of last night. 

"Stop staring," Ty suddenly barked. "And get me another battery, this one's too weak."

Chase obeyed.   
The silence that followed was unnerving, with only the welding's hiss filling the air. Chase wanted to say something to break the ice, but he had no idea what. There was still so much standing between them.

"That orphanage you said you grew up in," Ty suddenly said, not looking up from his work. "Tell me more about it."

"It's not that interesting a story," the young father replied, although he was happy to have given an opening. "The orphanage's manager, Father Reighley, was a kind man. There was a lot of work to do, and I took care of the younger children. When I turned thirteen, I left and trained to become an official of the Church."

"So no siblings, I guess."

"No. I thought you knew all about me already?" Chase frowned. "Or are you trying to find my family to threaten me? Well, good luck. There was only one person ever close to me..."

Ty adjusted his goggles. "And who could that be? An old lover perhaps?"

"You have to drag everything into the mud, don't you?" Chase shot back. "And frankly, I have no idea why I'm even telling you all this."  
"I do," Ty replied calmly over the hissing of the welding equipment. "You don't have anyone else you can be honest with. I already know all your worst secrets."

"So why give you any more ammunition?" Chase sighed. "Why do you even want to know?"

"You remember our little chat about trust last night? I guess I want to see if you truly mean it."

"And are you going to tell me something of yourself in return? Something that isn't a lie?" the young inquisitor demanded. 

The assassin looked up. "Yes. Now what about that special person of yours?"

Chase took a deep breath. It had been a very long time since he had been talking to anyone about this matter. "Back in the orphanage, there was a little boy. I found him when he was left in the box at our door as a baby, and I was allowed to name him. He followed me around, and it was like having a little brother. He was a terrible little troublemaker, however." He smiled sadly. "When I left the orphanage, I had to leave him as well. For five years, I wasn't allowed any contact with the outside world so that nothing would distract me from the training. When I was finally allowed to contact the orphanage, the new manager, Father Jameson, told me that my little brother had been adopted, given a different name, and that he wasn't authorized to share any contact information. I couldn't accept this because I knew older children almost never got adopted, even less one with such bad behavior, but I was still an acolyte and had no right to doubt a Father's word. As soon as I was given my new rank at age 26, I went to confront Father Jameson. But I was too late. He had been found dead a week before, hanging from the tree in the garden. Everything pointed to suicide. I searched the files, but there were no adoption papers. Jameson had lied to me – the boy I was looking for had left the orphanage on his own at age 13, never to be seen again."

The welding equipment sputtered and then went quiet. "I need another battery," Ty stated softly. "So what did you do?"

"I searched for him, of course, but he had disappeared completely and was presumed dead by the authorities. There were no leads at all," Chase continued, taking another deep breath. It hurt to tell this story, but it was also kind of lightening his heart a bit. He went to fetch the battery before he continued. "Since then, I've always hoped that one day, he would walk into my office at the Grand Church. He must be 22 years old by now, but I'd recognize him immediately. He had green-gray eyes, and his hair was dark blonde, or maybe light brown, always tousled and looking like a nest of mice. But even if he was wearing a fine suit and was neatly combed, I would know."

"That doesn't sound very flattering," Ty remarked, his voice sounding almost bored. "So, what made him special?"

Chase shrugged. "I honestly can't tell. He had a nasty character, although he behaved when he was with me. But I loved him despite all this – or maybe even because of it. I couldn't help it. And I still do."

Ty didn't answer.

"So it's your turn now," Chase reminded him. He had to change the topic, or the sadness would gain too much hold over him. "Tell me some true things about yourself."

"Nothing interesting here, either," Ty replied acidly. "Well, let's see... I lived on the streets as a teenager and nearly froze to death one winter. My trainer broke both my arms when I talked back to him one day. My last confession to a priest was when I was still a child, and I wasn't regretting anything I had done." He looked up, mouth twisted in derision. "And my favorite color is dark blue, just like your very pretty eyes, Father. Are you satisfied now?"  
"It's not much, but it's a start," Chase replied. "What about your family?"

But Ty didn't answer. He put away the welding equipment and grabbed a large screwdriver to use as a lever. He thrust it into the still-soft metal and started pushing. Chase rushed to his side and threw his whole weight into it as well. With a strange, groaning sound, the metal floor gave way to reveal a dark tunnel beneath.

The way down to the engine was free at last.

To be continued...


	35. Chapter 15 Part I - Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really had no time for this.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24, June 9th, AD 2667 – 4 ½ days left~

"So how are we going to get down there? You're not jumping this time," Chase remarked, looking down into the dark tunnel with a flashlight. "And I'm sure there are no controls down there to activate a ladder, so we have to find a way to get back up again first."  
"We do it the old-fashioned way," Ty answered, standing up to look around. After a few moments, he went over to some shelves stacked with fine silk sheets and started tearing the fabric into stripes. "Fetch that small, sturdy ladder over there. We put it over the opening and tie a makeshift rope to it."  
After a few minutes, the work was done. Chase felt like he was in the middle of an adventure movie when Ty bound the rope he had made to the ladder, tested its sturdiness and let himself down into the dark shaft. Chase waited a few moments until he heard Ty shouting up to him, then he took off his robe and climbed down as well.

The tunnel was much narrower than the one leading down to the command center, and suddenly Chase felt like he was weighting nothing anymore – the artificial gravity wasn't activated down here. He floated down the last few meters until he touched the floor. It was dark here as well, with only some status lights blinking. The young inquisitor let the flashlight's beam wander around. Another tunnel let into a bigger, round room. The engines hummed steadily, like a heartbeat. It was very hot, the air dusty and stale.   
"Ty?"

"Over here." The young assassin was standing in front of what appeared to be the main engine. It took Chase a moment to realize two things: Ty had no light whatsoever to guide his movements, and he was actually standing on the ground and not floating. As he turned around, Chase could see his right eye glowing eerily. 

"Do you think we can take control over them?" Chase asked as he floated closer. 

"I don't know yet. Shaziri said there are more security systems down here. If we touch the wrong button, those maintenance droids might be start crawling all over the place." He pointed to the far corner of the room were six metallic, circular objects were neatly stacked along the wall. Chase imagined that they had retractable arms and legs, like bugs or spiders.

"So how come you're not floating despite zero gravity in here?" he asked to distract himself from the image of spidery robots attacking them.  
Ty shrugged. "The implants in my legs have a magnetic function. If I understand this correctly, the control access is on top. Come on." He pushed himself from the ground, and floated up to the ceiling.

Chase followed him, and there were suddenly unbidden images in his head – images of grabbing Ty and pushing him against the wall, the assassin's heavy weight suddenly not an advantage anymore. 

They really had no time for this.

Ty grabbed hold of a railing holding the engine in place and studied the mass of control switches and buttons there. There was no sophistication, no finesse in them, just old-fashioned and bold functionality that looked like it was a century old. Chase had to admit that he had no idea what to do with it. 

"We have to get that to Shaziri," Ty decided. "This isn't my area of expertise." He pulled a small datapad from somewhere on his person and scanned the control surface. 

When he was finished, he pocketed the device again and floated down to the ground. As his feet touched the surface, a little clicking sound was heard. Then he just walked down the hall back to the tunnel while Chase had to navigate through the air by pushing himself off various surfaces in a rather undignified manner. 

As horrid as those implants were, they clearly served their purpose.

"So, you could theoretically walk on the surface of this space station without floating away into space?" he asked. 

Ty turned around and looked at him in open disgust. "Don't be stupid. I'd freeze to death or asphyxiate out there without a space suit like any other person, just a few minutes later due to my implants. Are you planning to throw me through the airlock or something?"

"No, I'm just curious," Chase replied earnestly. "I'd like to know what you can do, just in case."

"You already know too much," Ty replied icily, grabbed the makeshift rope and climbed up with such ease and swiftness that clearly showed the incredible strength in his limbs. 

Deadly grace, Chase thought, but not the Light's Grace. 

To be continued...


	36. Chapter 15 Part II - Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase stiffened. "None. I've never killed anyone. I only arrested criminals."

Abdul el Shaziri studied the holographic picture of the controls intently for several minutes before he decided to comment on it. Chase and Ty stood next to him, hope and impatience thick in the air. 

"Carl, you clever old fox," the businessman grumbled. "Well, gentlemen, we have the same problem here we have with the AI – it's very old technology. All space travel programs have been come to a hold when the First Apocalypse happened, and no nation of the world has decided to take it up again. The other existing space stations just have maneuvering drives to keep themselves in orbit, but this is a true light-speed engine from about a hundred years ago. Since it's so simply built, it's not as prone to failure as more sophisticated machines, but it's also very hard to use. I'm not specializing in historic engineering."

"But do you see a way to gain manual control over the engine?" Chase asked. 

"Let me think about it. If we make a mistake, it might be our last," Shaziri warned. "I'll think of something. Ask me again tomorrow."

The young inquisitor nodded, and he and Ty left. The feeling of helplessness returned, and Chase took a deep breath to steady himself. He needed to pray to center himself. When was the last time he had even done that? 

"Go and get some rest," Ty said quietly, standing next to him as the lift went up. "We can't do anything but wait at the moment."

Chase nodded. "I know." As he looked up, he saw Ty's hands shaking again. "And you should rest as well and get some more painkillers. I bet those wrists hurt."

"Why do you even care?" Ty shot back.

"Because I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to get hurt. And I'm responsible for you like I am for all the others aboard."

"Father, I've told you, I'm not one of your little black sheep desperate to get back into the herd. And if it wasn't for me, you'd still be unable to access even the main control center," Ty replied, eyes flashing. 

"If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in this situation at all," Chase reminded him. "You cleared the way for our murderer."

"Oh, so now you start believing me that I didn't kill Saunders?" Ty arched an eyebrow. "How come?"

The lift stopped, and both stepped out of it to enter the hallway to their quarters. 

"Because I'm starting to believe that we haven't found the murderer yet. That whole mess with Ashton Arezzo is too complicated. Maybe he was framed, and the only person who could have done that is..."

"Atlantis, of course," Ty finished the sentence for him. "But what does it matter now? Our primary goal is to find proof to switch off the AI, and that damn thing isn't really interested in the truth. Even if we could get Atlantis to make a confession, it wouldn't believe her because we made sure that everything else is pointing to Ashton."

"I know. But it's my obligation to bring the real killer to justice nevertheless. So, what do you think of her?" Chase opened the door to his quarters with his keycard and signed Ty to enter.

The young assassin stepped in. "There's more to her than meets the eye," he said. "She's one of those types that play stupid so that no one takes her seriously. Being underestimated is her greatest weapon. But I don't see a motive aside from not liking her ex-husband."

"Me neither," Chase admitted. "And that's the problem." He stopped. "But maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. What if she was hired to do the job, just like you?"

"So that would make her the black queen we're looking for?" Ty's tone was doubting. "That means she still has a black king behind her."

"And how is that any different from you?"

The young assassin was quiet for a moment, then he said, "Maybe I'm not working for the black king."

Chase turned around, looking at him in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me. I don't know who's behind my assignment. I never know."

Gazing into those strange green eyes, Chase felt that Ty was telling him something very important here. And finally Chase put two and two together, calling himself a fool at the same time for not noticing it earlier: the illegal technology, the incredible training, the ruthless efficiency... it all pointed to one thing. Ty was one of the mysterious agents of the Luna Mortis. 

Whispers, shadows, trails leading nowhere – the Church had never found anything more solid to track down the infamous organization. And now Chase had one of them in his hands.

Here it was, the chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the Church, to be purified with the Light. All he had to do was arrest Ty and deliver him to his superior, Cardinal Quinn, once they were back on Earth...

But the question at hand remained: why would one and the same person hire two different assassins, one pro and one amateur, who didn't know of each other? It didn't make sense. 

There had to be two different parties who had wanted Saunders dead, and each had sent someone. Ty's unknown client had clearly relied on deadly professionalism and expertise which surely wouldn't come cheap. The other might have relied on Tina Ludwig's personal relationship with the victim and her reputation as a silly, harmless young woman that nobody would suspect. 

What did that tell him about those people?

"I guess that makes Ashton a pawn sacrifice," he finally replied. "But as I said, I can't do anything until we've deactivated the AI or circumvented it."  
"But maybe I can. Do you still have the datapad with Ashton's confession?" Ty asked suddenly.

Chase nodded and went to his desk to retrieve it. Like the other evidence, the AI had allowed him to take it back. "Here. What are you hoping to find? My guess is that Ashton was drugged or poisoned somehow, passed out, and fell into the pool."

"That would leave traces of the drug or poison. Unfortunately, no deadly chemical dissolves completely into the bloodstream," Ty told him with such a clinical tone that Chase almost flinched. "If Atlantis killed him, she used another way because she's intelligent enough not to leave such an obvious trace. Maybe this datapad has some clues."

"There's one more thing I want to know," the young inquisitor interrupted him. "How many people have you killed so far?"

Ty didn't look up from the datapad. "Do you want to calculate how many centuries I have to burn in hell for it?"

"Just answer, please," Chase insisted, although he dreaded the answer.

"Only if you tell me how many people you have killed in your career, most reverent Father of the Holy Church of Light," Ty shot back acidly. "How many unfaithful sinners did you smite?"

Chase stiffened. "None. I've never killed anyone. I only arrested criminals."

Ty looked up at him, eyes glittering. "And they were executed or sent to the penitentiary camps. You can deny it all you want, but you're responsible for their deaths nevertheless. So, you want to know how many I've killed on my assignments? Fifteen people, to be exact, each and everyone no more or less guilty than those criminals of yours. How many did you sent to death in the name of your church?" With those words, the young assassin turned around to leave the room. "You're just a hypocrite, like the rest of your sorry bunch of church pawns."

Chase now knew better than trying to hold him back by force and let him leave. Once he was alone again, he sat down on the floor and closed his eyes to pray. 

But the usual serenity and calm didn't come. Although he repeated the words in his head over and over again, minute after minute, Ty's words still echoed in his ears, deafening him to the soothing familiarity of prayer.  
Pawn.

Hypocrite.

Killer. 

By the Light, Ty was right. There was blood on his hands, no matter if it had been the blood of criminals. And no prayer could ever wash it away.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: I'll be on vacation for the news few weeks. Updates will resume on August 18th.


	37. Interlude VIII - Mortal Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrean wanted to shut the door in his face, but Chase put a foot on the threshold. "I want to apologize," he said. "You are right."

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24 - June 9th, AD 2667, late afternoon – 4 ½ days left ~

Tyrean felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. Ever since Chase had told him the reason why he had never come back for him, it felt like an invisible hand was clutching at his throat. Chase had come back, but he had been too late. He had tried to find him, but that miserable bastard Jameson had lied to him. Tyrean remembered the day he hanged that evil son of a bitch on the tree in the orphanage garden, and was once again glad he had done it. It hadn't been an assignment, and no one had every found out.

Now he knew the truth, but it didn't make things better. They had gone down their different paths, and Tyrean wasn't about to regret what he had done. But there remained the fact that Chase had become such a mindless puppet of the church. They had thoroughly brainwashed him and turned his heart to a sinister purpose. Chase might try to protect people now, but his main goal was to hunt down sinners - no matter if those sinners were truly guilty. And he was even more of a hypocrite since Chase himself was not better with his preference for men – a mortal sin according to the Church. 

How could he even live with himself? 

Tyrean felt as if the last shred of innocent memory from his childhood had burned to ash; not because Chase had lied to him and didn't love him – he still did! But because he had been twisted. The smiling boy in his memories had been kind, honest, and so very bright and pure. He had seen in Tyrean what no one else had seen, and in his presence, a sullen, angry child had felt something like peace, like belonging. But the damn church had taken it all away with their rules and punishments. In their eyes, goodness was measured by obedience, and Tyrean had vowed never to be good in their eyes. After all, it meant being eaten by their system, just like Chase had been.

A buzzing on the door made Tyrean whirl around in alarm before he even knew what he was doing. But he had to keep up appearances at all costs, so he took another deep breath, schooled his features and went to answer the door. 

It was Chase standing there.

Tyrean wanted to shut the door in his face, but Chase put a foot on the threshold. "I want to apologize," he said. "You are right."

"Am I, now?" Tyrean took a step back. "It took you – what? - half an hour to realize that?"

"No, I mean it." Chase walked into the room. He had left his robes, wearing just the white pants and matching shirt underneath. In the room's dim light, he seemed to practically glow. "I am a hypocrite. I help condemning people for doing things I do as well. And I know that the church isn't perfect, because humans aren't perfect. We can only try to better ourselves by following the rules."

"And who decides what's better, what's perfect? Some old cardinals interpreting the commandments of three long-dead so-called saints who were humans as well," Tyrean replied in a cold tone. He was sick and tired of these sermons. "I'd rather burn in their hell than be perfect in their eyes."

Chase sighed. "Ty, I don't know what made you feel so hateful towards the Church, but we brought stability to a devastated country. If it weren't for us, there would be no Eden City. We brought peace, morality, and order."

Tyrean scoffed. "Sure you did. And with it, fear, self-denial, and oppression. You've been to the city's lower regions. You should know that it doesn't work. Hell, you can't even hold your own morality upright." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, shifting one of his hips provocatively to one side. Chase was staring again at the glimmer of a naked hipbone between pieces of clothing.

"And your organization of assassins is any better? I doubt it," Chase shot back. "You lie, steal, and kill for a living, Ty. I've seen enough work done by the Luna Mortis, and I know that you belong to them. You came to this station to kill someone, while I was sent here to protect him."

"And you failed. I didn't even have to get my hands dirty." Tyrean turned away. This was getting nowhere, and he felt tired. "And now get out."

"43. I've caught 43 criminals in the name of the Church," Chase stated softly after a moment of silence. "All of them were either executed or condemned to a slow death in the detention camps, like you said. You were right – I have more lives on my conscience than you. But I'm serving a higher purpose. You kill for - what? For money? For fun? Does it make you feel good?"

Tyrean whirled around, and a second later, Chase was lying on the floor, a bruise at his chin. He looked a bit dazed. "I guess I earned that," he murmured, carefully feeling his face. 

"You know nothing of me!" Tyrean hissed. His skin felt too tight for his body, and his knuckles burned although he had pulled the punch. If he had hit Chase with full force, his skull would have fractured. "Get out, before another murder happens right here and now!"

Slowly, Chase got to his feet, but didn't back away. "You tried to kill me before, but you didn't," he stated with unnerving calm. "I don't think you can. You wouldn't get so angry over this matter if you had no conscience at all."

"What do you care about my conscience? How many times do I have to repeat it, Chase? I don't want to be saved by you!"

"Everyone wants to be saved in some way," Chase replied. "Even if he doesn't know it yet." He turned around toward the door. "Let me know if you find anything on that datapad. I'll go find some ice."

Then he left.

"Damn you, Chase," Tyrean whispered into the emptiness of his room.

To be continued...


	38. Chapter 16 Part I - Deliverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaziri laughed. "I'm sure. Now hurry and reboot that engine so we can get home!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, today I have a special treat for you: a gorgeous picture of Tyrean by Candy Kay. You can check it out on her website, and don't miss her wonderful webcomic "Wish & Will"! http://wishandwill-comic.com/gallery/ty/

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24 - June 10th, AD 2667 - 3 ½ days left ~

Abdul el Shaziri called Chase early in the morning, telling him that he had found something. The young Father had tried to sleep and pray again, but with no more success than before. The sight of Ty looming over him like an avenging, fallen angel was still burning underneath his eyelids.

Nevertheless, he contacted Ty to let him know. He needed the other man's expertise, never mind their conflict. He also grabbed his sword and Ty's EMP weapon, just in case. 

"It's rather simple," the old businessman told them. "You have to activate the main control here, then restart the engine with those buttons. Once it has restarted, it will ask for coordinates. You put these in. It's earth. Once we're there, we go back into orbit."

Chase took the datapad. "This sounds really easy," he agreed. "Are you sure?"

Shaziri laughed. "I'm sure. Now hurry and reboot that engine so we can get home!"

 

Chase didn't really trust this matter. It was too easy. But they didn't have any choice, and it couldn't get worse than it was now. Ty's silence and drawn brows told him that he wasn't happy about the plan either.

It took them a few minutes to get back down into the engine room. The young inquisitor felt like he might even get the hang of the zero gravity surrounding yet and drifted over to the main engine far more gracefully than before. 

"Let's hope this works," he murmured, pushing the first button. A few red lights went on, but nothing more happened. Then he followed with the combination to restart the engine. He hadn't even pushed the fifth button when a red warning light went on, illuminating the whole engine room. A metallic, screeching sound followed. But it didn't come from the engine. 

"They're active!" Ty hissed, pulling his weapon from Chase's belt, and before the young Father could do anything, a bluish light flashed through the room, hitting one of the droids in the corner that had just started to move. Chase pushed himself off the engine and drew his sword just in time to slice through another droid crawling toward him. 

At first, it had looked like there were only six of them, but it turned out that they had been just the first row. The metallic creatures were half a man's height, and their six spidery legs had three sharp claws at each end. They seemed to be magnetic as well since they could walk along the floor and the wall, but even floating in the middle of the room couldn't take Chase out of their reach. Another blue flash lighted the room, then another and another, while Chase cut the next approaching droid with his sword. Six down, but at least six more were coming at them.

Chase quickly turned around to see how Ty was doing. The young assassin was frantically pushing buttons on his weapon, cursing under his breath. Obviously, the tiny weapon had run out of energy. But Chase had no time to worry about him when another metallic spider launched itself at him and grazed his upper left arm with one of its claws. Drops of blood floated through the air. Chase pushed himself off the wall and cut off the droid's legs, turning it helpless. 

A crash behind him let him turn around again. Ty had somehow destroyed two more droids and was now fighting the remaining three with his bare hands. Chase could only stare in morbid fascination how Ty's kick left a dent in a droid's hull and how a punch practically speared through another. That very same fist that had hit him yesterday with just enough force to leave a sore jaw was now wreaking havoc among their metal opponents. The two droids went down, but the last had crawled up the wall and was now hurling itself at Ty from behind, aiming its claws at his neck.

"Careful!" Chase shouted, propelling himself toward the room, and just as Ty ducked, he sliced the droid in two.

Silence returned except for the engine's soft, deep hum.

"I guess you did need some saving after all," Chase stated breathlessly and tucked his sword away.

"It couldn't have hurt me seriously," the young assassin replied. His eyes were once again alight with the eerie, artificial glow, but there was something else in them. "But still... thanks." He pulled some kind of brass knuckles off his hands that had obviously protected his fingers from the worst, although there was still blood on them. As he turned around, Chase could see that the droid's claws had slashed Ty's simple black clothing here and there, but didn't cut deep enough to injure him. The now visible, creamy skin was glistening with sweat, and Chase felt the overwhelming urge to lick it away. The adrenaline rush of the fight was turning quickly into heated lust, short-circuiting any rational thought.

Before he knew what he was doing, Chase had propelled himself forward, grabbed Ty by the hips and pushed him against the wall. The magnetic implants offered some resistance at first, but shut off a moment later. Ty's eyes went wide, and he gasped. Chase immediately took advantage of the half-open mouth and conquered it with a fierce kiss. As always, Ty tasted metallic and bitter like blood, but there was an addicting sweetness underneath.

Bloody fingers clutched at Chase's upper arms with bruising force, staining his white shirt even more, but neither of them cared. There was no pain. When Chase pulled back for a moment to look into Ty's eyes, he found the bright green clouded, making it look almost natural. The lips were bruised and swollen, and a faint blush, barely visible in the room's red light, was staining the cheeks. The cold-eyed killer mode was gone, leaving in its way a passionate and honest reaction.

Renewing their kiss with bruising force, Chase hooked his fingers underneath the torn fabric of Ty's top and pulled. The thin material gave way easily, letting him shred it completely. Ty moaned softly as Chase kissed down his throat and caught some drops of sweat. He traced the fine line of the vertical scar just above the chest with his tongue before catching a nipple between his lips.

Ty arched his back, involuntarily offering himself up to the touch, and Chase couldn't resist biting down. The cry he elicited was like a drug to his own system. Seeing this beautiful, deadly creature, infinitely stronger than himself, writhe in his grasp with abandon was incredibly arousing. Switching to tease the other nipple, Chase fumbled with the fastenings of Ty's pants. 

To be continued...


	39. Chapter 16 Part II - Deliverance

A loud, sizzling noise startled them. Both turned their heads toward the engine and saw little electric sparks on its top. Ty pushed Chase away rather roughly, making him fly trough the room, and floated toward the control panels.

"Damn it!"

"What is it?" Chase had some trouble returning.

"Another fail-safe", Ty stated with a frown. "The controls are burned. We should have known. There's no way to access the engine from here now."

"I'm starting to think that Saunders really wants to see us all dead." Chase took a deep breath as he looked at the damage. The control panel was just a molten mass. They had risked their life for nothing.

The adrenaline was wearing off, and Chase suddenly felt the pain in his upper arm, effectively killing of any remaining arousal. "Let's get ourselves patched up," he suggested softly. "This time, I got my share of injuries as well. How are your hands doing?"

Ty gave him a acidic look. "You better watch your own hands, or you might lose them next time." His gravitation implants active again, he walked toward the makeshift rope. 

 

Chase returned to his quarters for some much-needed bandages. The cut was clean, so he didn't ask Natalia for help. The pain wasn't too distracting, but he needed some time to think things over. Their options were even more limited than before, and now everyone aboard the station depended on him finding the final evidence for Ashton's guilt. But how? 

Thinking about the case distracted the young inquisitor from thinking about Ty. For those precious seconds, the assassin's guard had been down, and the Light only knew how far they would have gone if they hadn't been interrupted... 

No, he really had more important things to do, like searching Ashton's quarters again.

Just as Chase was about to leave his quarters, the warning signal of Kelly's life support started to sound. Her life signs seemed to get stronger. Chase didn't lose any time. He ran down the corridor toward the lift and took it up to Saunders' quarters.

Against all hope, Kelly had regained consciousness.

 

"I don't know what happened," the young woman whispered. Still deathly pale and tired, she was now lying in her own bed and tried not to let her pain and sadness show. The young inquisitor had notified Natalia, and she had confirmed that the severe head injury could have caused amnesia. All in all, it was a miracle that the girl had awoken and was coherent enough to talk. Chase silently thanked the Light with all his heart.

"Kelly, I know it's hard for you, but you are our only direct witness," he urged when they were alone again. "Please, you have to try and remember something – anything."

"I... I remember how I took the lift up to Grandfather's rooms," she replied. "I knew something wasn't right when I found the droids disabled. But after that... I'm sorry." She quickly rubbed her eyes. "I just wish I could have done something. Grandfather..."

Chase shook his head. "You couldn't have done anything, Kelly. The murderer was desperate enough to kill you as well, and we're just glad you're still alive. I'm the one to blame since I was brought here to protect him, and I failed."

"No, it's not your fault either," Kelly interrupted him firmly. "It's all the killer's fault. And you're going to catch him, I know it!"

"Maybe that's not possible anymore," the young Father admitted and quickly told her what had happened in the last few days since she had been knocked unconscious. "Above all, I need your help now. Can you deactivate or circumvent Protocol Sunflare somehow?"

"I wouldn't know how," Kelly murmured. "I didn't have the faintest idea that he had installed such a program. That he was ready to kill us all if you don't find his murderer..." She took a deep breath. "But I'll take a look at the control center as quickly as possible."

"You have to rest now. I'll take you down there later," Chase said. "And there's something else: if you do remember anything, don't tell anyone but me. If the killer is still alive and thinks you can identify him, your life is in danger. As long as you were in a coma, you were harmless to them, but now... but I won't let any more harm happen to you. It would be best if you don't let anyone in here without my presence, not even Veronica."

Kelly nodded solemnly.

 

The news that Kelly had woken up traveled quickly. Chase was stormed with questions when he entered the parlor. "She's still very confused and weak and doesn't remember anything from the night Saunders was killed," he said. "I can't tell you anything else at the moment."

"Is she able to turn the space station around?" Atlantis asked anxiously. 

"We'll see. For now, she has to rest."

"Can I see her?" Veronica, of course.

Chase nodded. "I'll accompany you. - Everyone else please stay calm and wait. I'll notify you of any new developments as soon as possible."  
There was some discontented grumbling, but no open protests. 

As soon as Chase and Veronica left, she looked at him with her sharp eyes. "I'm so grateful that Kelly woke up, but she's in danger, right? Did she see the murderer?"

"No, she really doesn't remember," the young inquisitor answered, glad that he didn't have to lie. The older woman would look right through him. 

"This isn't over," Veronica said softly. "Remember what I said to you on our first evening on his death trap? I can't believe that it should have been this nice young man."

"People aren't always what they seem," Chase replied noncommittally. 

"No, they aren't. But sometimes, they are. I don't think that this is over yet. And I trust you bring justice to those who deserve it." With a quick gesture, she touched his hand.

Chase smiled at her. Veronica had a good head on her shoulders, and if she was also convinced that Ashton wasn't the murderer, he had another good reason to continue his mission and find the real culprit. "I always serve justice," he promised.

 

As expected, Kelly was happy to see her step-grandmother, and her cheeks regained some color with Veronica's loving attention. Kelly claimed to have heard her sing while she was unconscious, and that it helped her finding back her way into the world of the living.

Whatever grief and sadness this journey had brought, Chase was glad to see that at least for these two women, it had reforged an old family bond. In fact, Kelly claimed to feel so much better already that she convinced Chase to help her get down to the control center immediately. Chase wasn't happy with this, but the sooner Kelly could take a look at the control center, the better.

Carefully, the young Father carried her all the way down. The young woman was very light and small, so it was no problem maneuvering down the ladder with her on his back. 

As soon as they entered the main control room, Kelly called up the main functions. Instead, the AI appeared. 

"Hello Kelly," it greeted her, and the girl gasped at the sight of her dead grandfather. "Do you have any more data to enter?"  
"I want you to shut down Protocol Sunflare," she ordered. "Immediately."

"I cannot comply. There is still evidence missing. As soon as you have brought all the evidence that Ashton Arezzo is the killer, Protocol Sunflare will be deactivated."

Kelly took a deep breath, quickly looked back toward Chase, and the stated firmly, "I want to enter an eye witness' statement. The night Grandfather was killed, I saw the murderer. I entered his rooms to help him as soon as his life sign monitor gave alarm, and the killer knocked me down. I have been incapacitated until now, so I couldn't make my statement earlier. I saw Ashton Arezzo with my own eyes."

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, I'll be away for the next few weeks. The next update will be on October 20th.


	40. Chapter 17 Part I - Home Stretch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But as far as Chase was concerned, his work was just beginning.

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24 – June 10th, AD 2667 ~

Endless seconds passed before the AI finally answered, "Evidence accepted. Congratulations to you, Kelly and Father Holloway. You have successfully identified the murderer. Since he is already dead, no further action will be necessary. Protocol Sunflare is hereby activated. Main controls are restored."

Both Kelly and Chase let out a relieved sigh as the monitor changed to what seemed to be the normal status information. The space station had stopped its flight, waiting for orders.

Quickly, Kelly typed in new coordinates and reactivated the engine. "We can't travel at full speed because of our limited fuel supplies, so we need another two days to return," she said after a moment.

"Doesn't matter, as long as we get back safely," Chase replied. He felt infinitely relieved. "Can you contact Earth, let them know what happened?"  
She nodded. "But it might take a while to get an answer. We're pretty far away by now."

"Just send a report. Tell them where we are and report a malfunction of the engines – I'll make a full report later. The terrestrial station of Eden City should be ready to send us shuttles as soon as we re-enter orbit." he hesitated. "You lied, didn't you? Or did you suddenly remember seeing Ashton?"

"Of course I don't remember. But I guess this was our only chance," she said with a weak smile. "I hope the Light forgives such a lie."

"Of course. You saved us all, Kelly," Chase replied, returning her smile. "I don't think I've ever met a braver person."

"That wasn't bravery, that was doing what was right," she replied, but nevertheless seemed happy about the praise.

Chase noticed that she went deathly pale again, and quickly carried her upstairs and took her to her room to rest. Then he returned to the parlor where the other guests were still waiting.

"We are on our way back to Earth," he announced. "Miss Kelly was able to override the system." If he had told them that she had seen Ashton, the real murder might be alarmed, and he couldn't risk that. "Everything is alright now, and we should be back home in a few days. This nightmare is over."

Everyone's reaction was absolutely genuine, as far as the young inquisitor could tell – immense relief. None of those aboard had wanted to die along with Saunders. And the real murderer would surely drop his guard since he or she thought it was really over.

But as far as Chase was concerned, his work was just beginning.

 

That evening, a party took place that this station had never seen before. Atlantis was wearing black, but sexy clothing and forced smiles, but held herself back in her mourning state. Although Chase watched her closely, he couldn't find anything suspicious. If the girl was indeed involved, she was a far better actor than Ashton had ever been.

Shaziri, for the matter, had decided to end his abstinence and was making loud and incoherent speeches while waving around with a half-empty bottle. Natalia and Villiers behaved as proper as ever, but seemed to be much more relaxed.

Chase's gaze also wandered to Ty who was wearing his most outrageous outfit so far that seemed to consist of nothing but mesh and a few solid violet straps of cloth here and there to hide his injuries and a last shred of modesty. He looked like he had just stepped out of a dancing cage in a hardcore night club. 

He was smirking and talking with the other guests, but Chase could see the fine lines of pain around his mouth. When he thought of the various bruises and cuts and the Technomin-withdrawal heightening every feeling, Ty's iron self-control was eerie. Although Chase had gone through a lot of resistance training during his time as Church candidate, he really asked himself what kind of methods had forged Ty's almost inhuman tolerance for pain. That thought was thankfully distracting enough to keep Chase's raging arousal in check.

 

According to the artificial time rhythm aboard the station, it was well into the night when the last guests returned to their rooms. The young inquisitor didn't want to let anyone out of his side, so he had stayed sober and alert. When he finally entered his quarters, he found himself face to face with Ty. The young assassin had obviously circumvented the door lock with ease.

Chase grabbed his wrist, instinctively pressing into the wounds underneath the various bracelets. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Have you been tampering with my computer again?"

Ty yanked his arm free, suppressing a hiss. "Yes, I have, but this time, it was to do you a favor. A subroutine shows all the station's data of our flight home on your monitor. I thought you might sleep easier this way."

Chase stepped toward the terminal and confirmed Ty's words. He now saw the route, the speed, and the energy status of the station. "Why did you do this?"

Ty shrugged. "Safety measures. This isn't over, I know it. I also uploaded a schematic of Ashton's datapad. There were some interesting traces on it."

The young Father pulled up the data and let the schematics show as a hologram floating between them. Ty pointed towards two burned circuits. "On very rare occasions, datapads of this production line short-circuited when coming into contact with water. Tiny drops got through the joint of the cover and caused the energy cells to overload. The electric shock is strong enough to cause drowsiness, fainting, and even death when the person has a weak heart. It is also possible to cause such an overload on purpose, using the datapad as a makeshift stun gun. Atlantis might have stunned Ashton with this, and he fell into the pool and drowned."

Chase's heart raced. "Is there a way to find out if this was an accident or on purpose?"

Ty shook his head. "No. This is one of the very few perfect murder weapons."

"Then I'll have to interrogate Miss Tina tomorrow," Chase decided. "Either way, she didn't tell us the truth. Thanks, Ty."

The young assassin turned around to leave, but Chase stopped him. "Don't go yet."

Three little words, but it was enough. Ty stopped, his face still turned toward the door. His slender, dark silhouette looked strangely out of place among the opulence of the room.

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Because I ask you to." Chase took a deep breath. "Stay the night - with me. What happened down there in the engine room today..."

"… was a mistake!" Ty interrupted him harshly, facing him again. "I told you to keep your hands off me!"

"I was just wondering how far you would have gone if I hadn't found out the truth about you. Did you have plans to seduce me as Tyler Derringford?" Chase asked, and he really wanted to know.

"And why is that still important, Father?" The title was pure mockery. "That part of our little game is over."

"If it's over, why are you still wearing those outfits? And don't tell me you don't have anything else left in your luggage. I've already seen you in far tamer things than this." Chase had wanted his voice to sound taunting, but instead it got a bit throaty as he once again couldn't help staring at Ty. The transparent mesh fabric clung to every inch of his body, its criss-cross lines digging into the sensitive surface of the nipples. Chase remembered how they tasted and felt the heat pooling in his belly. He wanted to rip that damn net fabric with his teeth.

"Well, maybe I like making your squirm, showing you things you can never have," Ty said mockingly. "Good night, Father."

"Good night. And as you said yourself: If you have put your official outrage behind you, you know where to find me." Chase suddenly couldn't help but grin as Ty gave him an acidic look, turned around and left.

To be continued...


	41. Chapter 17 Part II - Home Stretch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's all my fault!" she cried. "It's my fault he's dead!"

Very early the next morning, Chase went to Tina's room to confront her. It took a moment before she opened the door with a stifled yawn. She was wearing a tiny black nightgown, and her hair was mussed.

"Father, what can I do for you this early?" she asked, grabbing a bright red, satiny bathrobe from a nearby chair and pulling it on. "Can I offer you some coffee?"  
Chase already had two cups, so he declined. "Please sit down. Miss Tina, at first, I need your finger prints."

She hesitated for a moment, but then she held out her hand to him for the scan. Her nails were painted bright blue. "Is that all?"

"No. I'll come right to the point: you lied to me regarding the death of Mr. Arezzo. We know that the datapad with his confession had a malfunction and stunned Mr. Arezzo, resulting in his drowning. Now tell me what truly happened."

The model's doll-like face went ashen as she stared at him in shock, then she started sobbing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

Chase grabbed her elbows and pulled her hands away from her face. "Tell me", he ordered her. 

"It's all my fault!" she cried. "It's my fault he's dead!"

"What do you mean?" the young Inquisitor urged her, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me everything from the moment Ashton met you by the pool. Now!"

Her hysteria slowly subsided, and she started to talk, interrupted by little hiccups. "Ash came to me, and he had the datapad with him. He told me he couldn't stand all of this any longer and gave me the datapad with his confession. He was desperate.

I was so shocked to learn that he had killed Carl, but I knew that he had done it for me! I begged him to find another way than turning himself in or even worse, kill himself, so I grabbed the datapad and threw it into the pool. Ash pulled it out and put it on the table, but then... it was terrible! He suddenly went rigid and stared at me, then staggered backwards and fell face-down into the water. As I told you, I can't swim, so I panicked and ran to get help. You know the rest." She took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't believe me and think I did something to him!"

"Miss Tina, if you had told me right away, Protocol Sunflare could have been shut down immediately! You kept us all in terrible danger, including yourself!"

"I know... but I was so frightened... if Kelly hadn't woken up again, I would have told you before the countdown ran off. I don't want to die!" she sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry..."

Chase let go of her. "It wasn't your fault that Ashton died," he reminded her. "But you made things difficult for me, and obstructed my investigation. Your own government will decide if you'll be persecuted by law."

She nodded. "I know. But please... don't tell the others. And if the press learns of this, my career is in danger..."

"I can't promise you that," the young inquisitor said. "But the important thing is that we're already safely back on our way to earth. I can close the case file for good now."

The young woman's eyes swam with tears as she answered, "But I've still lost everything."

 

When Chase returned to his quarters to finish his report, he still felt uneasy. Everything was explained now, and Tina's story held up to the facts. But there was still something nagging at the back of his mind. Somehow, he was still somehow reluctant to erase her completely from the list of suspects.

A short message from Kelly arrived half an hour later, and he left right away to meet her. The girl was awake, sitting at her table. 

"Kelly, you should stay in bed," he scolded her as he stepped closer. 

"I can't sleep anyway," she said. "Listen, there is something very important I have to tell you. I know you still try to find evidence to uncover the real murderer. I remembered something about the night Grandfather was killed."

Chase grabbed a chair and sat down beside her. "What is it?"

"The person who attacked me... I saw him for a moment. My head hurts every time I try to recall his face, but it was definitely a man, not a woman. And... and he had light hair. It really could have been Ashton."

"That's great news," he told her with a smile. "I started to have my doubts, but the more evidence I have, the more they really point to Ashton. Are you sure?"  
"I am sure. It was a man with light hair," she confirmed.

And Chase now knew something even more important: Ty was truly innocent. He had manipulated the security, but he had neither killed Saunders nor Ashton. His trust had paid off. 

 

Strangely enough, time didn't seem to matter so much now that the countdown wasn't looming over their heads anymore. Chase spent the day completing his report for his superiors, painstakingly going through every step along the way again, trying to find something that didn't fit. But everything was logical and explained now. There was only one question that remained: what should he write about Ty? If he told the complete truth, then he couldn't let him go once they were back on Earth. An agent of the Luna Mortis had to be detained and questioned – and then executed. But if the secret organization was even half as good as their reputation, then they had found a way to keep their agents from getting caught. Poison, maybe, or an explosive... 

No, he had to omit this fact. And there was something else. Although he had put all the blame on Ashton, the camera manipulation remained unexplained. Chase thought about it for a moment before he decided to put this on Ashton as well – after all, the actor had told him he had learned to hack for a movie role. Ty would walk freely once they were safely back on Earth. 

It was wrong to tamper with his report and let Ty go like this, and he knew it, but at the same time, it was the right thing to do. He just couldn't turn him in like any other criminal, not after everything they had gone through. 

Another sin to add to his growing pile of sins, and it would be a lot of work to atone for it. Once he was back on Earth, Chase would ask his superior for some grueling, humble assignments for the next months. But was it really this easy to atone? According to the Church's commandments, there were some sins so grave they were unforgivable, darkening the soul forever. Letting a criminal go wasn't as bad as kissing him. 

If it hadn't been such a grim thought, Chase would have laughed. Maybe it was good that Ty hadn't taken his offer after all. 

 

With one last look on the indeed comforting new information showing on his terminal, Chase took off his robe, slipped into his pajama pants and finally went to bed. They would arrive tomorrow, and the familiar planets they had passed again loomed beyond the window. 

Minutes later, the Father jumped as he heard the soft noise of the door opening. He reached for his foldable sword on his nightstand, but before he could grab it, something thin, cold, and already familiar closed around his right wrist: Ty's handcuffs. 

To be continued...


	42. Interlude IX - Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And what if I wanted to see you again?" Chase asked. "Not as enemies, but on neutral ground?"

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24 – June 11th, AD 2667 – late evening ~

"What the...?" Chase struggled in the semi-darkness of the room, staring angrily up at Tyrean. "What are you doing? I thought we were past that part of the game as well?"

Tyrean fastened the other part of the cuffs to the head of the bed, like he had done last time, but kept Chase's left hand free. "I told you not to assume anything about me," he said softly. "And before we reach Earth tomorrow, we have to settle some things."

"And what? I told you that I would let you go if you are not the killer, and I'm a man of my word," Chase replied, looking up at him with those damned earnest eyes. "And you helped me find out the truth about Ashton's death. Do you want to know what Tina and Kelly told me? Now, everything fits. The case is solved."

"No need to, I've read your report. And you truly didn't mention anything about me aside from the fact that I've helped you," Ty replied and couldn't help but smirk when he saw Chase's frown. "Father, please, did you really think I would just install the station's flight data on your terminal? You're far too trusting for an inquisitor."

"Maybe. So if that's not why you're here, what do you want then? As far as I'm concerned, we're even."

There was truly something Tyrean wanted to say, and if he didn't do it now, it would be too late. "Tomorrow, we part ways. And we won't see each other again, unless we face each other in a fight on opposite sides. If we meet again, it will be as enemies, and neither of us will have the luxury of sparing the other then."

"And what if I wanted to see you again?" Chase asked. "Not as enemies, but on neutral ground?"

"For what purpose?" Tyrean shot back. "To talk like old friends, maybe? Listen..."

"No, to do this." Chase grabbed Tyrean's right arm and pulled him down. Tyrean's own weight worked against him, and he managed to prop himself up with his other arm before he crushed Chase. One heartbeat later, he felt warm, already familiar lips on his, and Chase's free hand groped at his belt.  
He really wanted to hit Chase, or even better, strangle him, like he had almost done before. That damn, self-righteous...

Tyrean caught himself closing his eyes and returning the kiss. 

Suddenly, Chase grabbed him with both hands and rolled them around. Tyrean's slightly fogged mind registered too late that Chase had felt for the device controlling the cuffs he was wearing at his belt. And just like last time, Chase turned the tables by snapping one of the cuffs around Tyrean's wrist, right above the heavy leather of a wristband to prevent any further damage. 

How could he have been so stupid, to be caught with the same trick twice?

"I think we've been here before," Chase murmured, looking down at Tyrean with smugness. "I didn't think you'd get yourself caught again like this, unless you wanted to. Is this why you have come here?"

Tyrean's free hand shot up to grab Chase's throat, but he didn't squeeze. He felt the pulsing life just beneath the hot skin, and it would be so easy to crush it. Instead, he felt his fingers shaking, all strength lost. His hand fell back on the cushion.

It was just that damn Technomin-withdrawal, nothing more. Tomorrow, when he had returned to the headquarters and given an new dose, everything would be back to normal. No feelings, no sensations, no pain.   
No Chase.

"You can't do it," Chase whispered, leaning down. "And I won't stop this time."

The kiss was hot and searing, drowning Tyrean in a haze of terribly helpless lust. Once again, he felt Chase's warm hands on his body, tugging at the simple black clothing, opening fastenings, ripping through it where it didn't go fast enough. The touch on his bare flesh seemed to burn right though the skin, setting every nerve ending on fire. He heard himself cry out as Chase's searingly hot tongue licked at a nipple, and the boiling feeling low in his stomach became an inferno. With a last shred of reason, he resisted to grab Chase with his free hand, but instead held on the bed's metal frame. It creaked under his grip, but he didn't care. The whole space station could now burn up, for all he cared.

When Chase moved against him, he realized that there was no barrier of cloth left between them. Kisses were dropped the way down to his belly like falling stars, and then Tyrean's vision blanked out for a moment as an impossible hot mouth closed around his erection. He had no time to register what was happening to him as orgasm ripped through him like a hurricane, making him cry out again.

Of course he had touched himself like any normal teenager would sometime – although it remained a shallow last resort to battle his hormones, but ever since the surgery and his use of Technomin, there had been no sense in it. 

Of course it had never felt like this.

Gasping for breath, he managed to open his eyes a few moments later. Chase, damn him, was grinning smugly down on him. Sweat glistened on his perfect skin, and a few strands of normally immaculately groomed hair had fallen into his eyes. 

He was so beautiful, almost glowing, burning Tyrean with that fire of his.

"You are much more sensitive than I thought," he whispered. "Let's see if I can get you to scream some more."

Tyrean wanted to punch him in the face, but he didn't have the strength. His whole body was tingling, and as Chase touched him again, the arousal was back full force. This time, however, Chase seemed to have other plans. Using his leverage, he turned Tyrean around. The handcuffs clinked as they slid along the metal bar of the headboard. As Tyrean grabbed hold of it again as not to fall on his face, he registered dully that they had already bent a little.

He was quickly distracted of this as Chase bit down on the side of his neck, pulling his body back into position. Tyrean felt probing fingers at his entrance, slick with some lotion that sneaky bastard had doubtlessly placed ready to use on the nightstand. Had he been really so sure of this? 

All anger fled Tyrean as the new sensation of being penetrated took hold of him. His overly sensitive nerves registered every tiny movement of the expert fingers preparing him, and just as Chase had promised, he screamed once again as something deep inside him was briefly caressed. Then the finger withdrew to be replaced with something much bigger and hotter.

"Relax," Chase whispered into his ear, giving the outer shell a quick lick, but it was impossible. Tyrean's whole body was one taunt string, ready to snap. He felt the pain along the pleasure, both mixing, becoming indistinguishable, heightening each other.

Tyrean hated pain, had always hated it – not for the sensation itself, but for what it stood for. Showing pain was a sign of weakness, and he wouldn't start to show any weakness now. Chase, however, wasn't this easily fooled. He held still once he was fully inside, giving Tyrean time to adjust. "You okay?" he asked softly. "I'm starting to think you haven't done this before."

Tyrean would have sooner bit his own tongue off than deign this with an answer. Instead, he took a deep breath, relaxing his abdominal muscles under Chase's supporting grip. 

This seemed to be enough to convince him. Chase started to move, and if Tyrean had thought before that it couldn't get any more intense, he had thought wrong. With every thrust, Chase hit that special spot inside him with perfect precision, making him gasp helplessly. Tyrean closed his eyes, every rational thought forced out if him as he just surrendered to the pleasure. Gone were any thoughts of weakness, of cursing Chase for doing that to him, of cursing himself for letting it happen. He just clung to the metal bar like a lifeline with all his remaining strength as he allowed his traitorous body again and again to be consumed by a fire beyond his control.

To be continued...


	43. Chapter 18 Part I - Fallen Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With feverish haste, Chase pulled on some gloves and took the record scanner to scan it for fingerprints. It had never occurred to him to do it, but what if...

~ Private orbital station Sanctuary 24 – June 12th, AD 2667 – early in the morning ~

Chase awoke with a groan, instantly realizing that he was alone. He hadn't expected Ty to stay, but for a moment, the bed felt cold and empty. As he looked up, he noticed that the headboard was broken - the main metal bar pulled from its fasteners with inhumanly force. So Ty hadn't even needed the cuff-controlling device to get away. All night long, it had been lying next to the bed, within reach, but neither of them had thought about it any more.

Chase pushed his tousled hair away from his face as he sat up. This had been without a doubt the best and worst night of his life, he resumed as he went to take a much-needed shower to wash off the unmistakable smell of metal clinging to his skin. The sex had been incredible, for sure. But Chase still had the nagging feeling that it hadn't been fully consensual because he had ruthlessly abused Ty's hypersensitivity caused by the Technomin-withdrawal. On the other hand, Ty could have stopped him any time and hadn't – the broken metal bar was proof that he still had the strength to do it. 

After getting dressed and enjoying a cup of coffee – Chase would miss this most of all, he admitted – he consulted his computer. They had almost reached Earth that was now a familiar sight outside the window. A shuttle from the ground station was ready to collect them as soon as the station reached orbit – which would be in two hours. Chase packed his things, ready to leave. He would try and talk to Ty before they left, to clear things up. He had truly meant what he had said – he wanted to see him again.

But this mission was finished.

Nevertheless, he young inquisitor didn't feel satisfied in the least. Yes, he had found the murderer, and they had made it back safely, but he hadn't been able to save Saunders. Ashton had also escaped the chance of a trial when he was killed by accident. And Atlantis...

There was still something nagging at the back of his mind when he thought about her. Although every piece of the puzzle seemed to be in place now, Chase still felt that something was missing. Or was he just being paranoid?

Chase sat down at his desk and reread his report, taking every piece of evidence into account. And then it hit him: he had taken Tina's fingerprints yesterday, but never compared them to the prints he had found on the datapad. Her confession had made it unnecessary.

Following his inner voice, Chase compared the prints nevertheless. They matched, of course, and no one except for her and Ashton had touched the datapad. If someone else had manipulated it, he or she had been careful.

Or no one else had touched it at all, and the young Father was now hunting shadows. But the bad feeling remained, and the closer they got to Earth, the more he was convinced that he had overlooked something. But what? 

Chase had taken all the evidence back from the AI and put them in little safety bags. As he shuffled through them in his suitcase, he realized that he had given Ty his weapon back and never asked him to return it. But it was for the better – that piece of highly advanced technology would raise a lot of questions. In his report, he had written that Ashton had used some kind of little EMP bombs he had smuggled aboard. There was nothing left pointing to Ty.

Just as he wanted to close his suitcase, Chase's gaze fell on the record scanner Atlantis had given him. This useful little device had given him the exact time of murder and the reason why Ashton had known the cameras were turned off. In his report, Chase had written some elaborate lies about a malfunction of the cameras. One lie had led to the next, and now his report was as far from the truth as if he would have added some fairies and pirates to it. He had to be very careful upon returning and prepare for questions if his superior wanted more details. 

Suddenly, Chase felt like he was the murderer himself, weaving a net of lies, false leads, and fake evidence to hide the truth. He really was no better. How had he become such a victim of dishonesty in only a few days? And everything because he wanted to protect Ty... but why? Because he had helped him? Because he found him attractive? By the Light, there was no rational reason for covering up for this ruthless assassin! It was as crazy as Ashton murdering Saunders for Atlantis' sake...

Chase took a deep, shaky breath. He had to concentrate!

Still turning the little bag with the record scanner in his hands, the young inquisitor thought about the people on this station: those he had already eliminated as the murderer, those who had died, and those who had confessed their lies. 

Chase regarded the record scanner more closely. There was a tiny logo imprinted on its back that he hadn't noticed before. It belonged to Saunders Industries.

With feverish haste, Chase pulled on some gloves and took the record scanner to scan it for fingerprints. It had never occurred to him to do it, but what if...

There were three sets on it, he noted. Two he already knew: Tina's and his own, because he had touched it without gloves. But the third was new. 

And it didn't belong to Ashton Arezzo.

"So who's left? The members of the supervisory board." Veronica's words on their very first evening aboard.

"The most poisonous of snakes are not the big cobras with their threatening behavior, but the tiny snakes you can barely see in the sand." Shaziri's advice one evening.

"It was a man with light hair." Kelly's description of the murderer.

By the Light, how could he have been so stupid? The only person aboard he hadn't considered in the slightest, who hadn't helped him or hindered him, which whom he had barely spoken...

After hastily putting everything back in his suitcase, Chase left his room. He wanted to speak to Kelly before it was too late.

Just as he had reached her room, a strange vibration resounded through the station. Moments later, an alarm went off, the warm yellow lights of the corridor turning into bloody red. Kelly ran into his arms as she stormed out of her room. "By the Light, we have just lost all primary power!" she cried. "Come on, we have to get to the control center!"

Chase steadied her. "And how? Are the elevators still working?"

She nodded. "There are no staircases on this station. Because of that, the lifts have an independent energy circuit linked to the emergency power. Let's go!"

The elevator was still working, although it seemed to travel at a snake's pace. Chase impatiently walked in circles. "Do you have any idea how this could happen? Sabotage, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "The last information I got before my terminal went dark was about an empty fuel supply. But I have no idea why I didn't get a warning ahead. The fuel reserves should have been more than enough. The only explanation might be that the engines burned through it much faster than expected."

Finally, they reached the ground level and quickly climbed down the ladder to the control center. Artificial gravitation and life support were still working, so they managed to get there without problems. 

Kelly's fingers practically flew over the keyboards as another shock ran through the station. "Damn it," she cursed. "The fuel regulator was damaged. I have no idea how this could have happened. It's a part of the engine itself."

It dawned on Chase. "We were down there, Tyler and I. A fail-safe was activated to permit us any direct access, and the control panel melted away. Was this fuel regulator by any chance part of it?"

"It was," she groaned. "And now we're already out of orbit. The engine should have taken us on the correct circular path, but we passed that point... and we're now entering atmosphere..." The station shook again, and this time, the artificial gravity failed for a moment, hurling them across the room. Chase managed to grab Kelly before she could hit her head against the ladder.

"So this means we're crashing, and you can't do anything? What about the shuttle?" he demanded. 

"It can't dock when we're moving this fast!" she shouted over the now deafening sound of the alarm. "We have only one chance – get to the escape pod. Grandfather installed it on the station's top, right above his rooms!"

To be continued....


	44. Chapter 18 Part II - Fallen Sanctuary

They somehow managed to scramble the ladder up again. "Alright, you go and ready this escape pod. I'll search for the others. They must have panicked when that alarm went off", Chase decided as they stepped into the lift on the ground level. It gave some disturbing sounds, but started to move nevertheless. Chase just hoped it would continue to work, or none of them would get out of here. He stepped off at the third level were the parlor and the kitchen was located because he figured that some of the guests had been in the process of making breakfast. Veronica, pale but calm, was waiting for him there, supporting Abdul el Shaziri. He was limping. 

"He fell badly when the station shook," she said as Chase helped her get the old man inside the lift. "What happened?" 

"We need to leave with the escape pod. Were you two the only ones on this level? Good. Go to the top level, I'll get the others," he quickly explained to her. Before she could answer, the lift stopped again on the 7th level where Tina's, Natalia's, and Villiers' quarters were located. 

Chase ran out into the hallway and banged on the first door, which opened under the pressure. Obviously, the emergency power wasn't supporting the door locks. He stepped into Atlantis' apartment, but it was empty. Villiers' rooms were deserted as well, but when he opened Natalia's door, he heard a grown. The woman was lying next to her bed, still in her pajamas. Chase gently shook her until she awakened. There was blood in her tousled hair; obviously she had fallen out of bed and hit the nightstand. 

"Can you walk? We have to get off the station!" he urged her. "And have you seen Miss Tina and Mr. Villiers today?"

"No... no, I haven't... last thing I know is that I went to bed last night..." She blinked, confused. Slowly, Chase helped her to her feet and went to the lift with her. Since she could barely stand, Chase had no choice but accompany her to the top level. He also hoped that the others were already there. 

Beyond the door leading to Saunders' rooms, a trap door had been opened in the study's ceiling with a ladder leading up. Kelly was busy at the computer terminal, her dead grandfather still lying next to it under the protective energy of the security parameter. The girl looked pale and haunted, but seemed resolved not to become a victim of her grief or the residual weakness of her head injury. Chase had to admit that he had rarely seen such a brave and strong person. The company would be in good hands with her.

If they ever made it out of here alive.

Kelly looked up. "Veronica and Shaziri are already aboard", she said. "But we have another problem. The escape pod is only meant for six people, but we are eight. If we try and get more aboard, it might not start at all."

"But we can't leave anyone here!" Chase argued as he gently helped Natalia climb the ladder. "Isn't there another way?"

She shook her head. "No. But I'm prepared to stay here. It's my responsibility since all of this is my grandfather's fault."

Chase shook his head. "You have to take care of the others. I'll stay. That leaves Tina, Villiers, and Tyler. Have you seen them?"

"No, but I managed to reroute enough energy to use the station-wide communications to broadcast a message. They should get here any moment."

"How much time do we have left?" Chase asked as another tremor ran through the station. With a sick, crunching sound, the large window behind Kelly started to get some fractures.

She turned around in alarm. "We only have minutes! The hull temperature is rising constantly. If one of the windows breaks, we'll get sucked out into space."  
"Then start the countdown for the escape pod now. Can you program it for ten minutes? I'll go and look for the others. We can't risk being stuck here. And you get inside as well! That's an order from your Church superior!"

She hesitated, then nodded. "All right. Good luck!"

Chase didn't wait any longer. Feeling Kelly's worried gaze in his back, he stepped into the lift that hadn't brought any more passengers with it in the meantime.  
Where to look? The station consisted of 11 levels, and he knew that the missing persons weren't on five of them. The second level with its uninhabited staff quarters as well as the 5th level with a huge unfinished cinema hall was completely closed off to the guests, and on the 9th level were only Shaziri's and Veronica's quarters, leaving no reason for the others to be there. Chase decided to search the other levels from top to bottom, stopping at the 7th level were his own, Kelly's, and Ty's quarters were located. 

Ty's apartment, as expected, was empty. Where was he? Chase was sure that Ty knew of the escape pod already.

The level consisting of the dining hall and the dance hall was deserted as well, leaving only the area with the greenhouse and the pool.

That damn pool where Ashton drowned – was drowned. Chase unfolded his sword before he stepped out of the lift. This level's walls consisted of nothing but glass windows, and most of them already showed cracks. Outside, Earth glowed in a red haze of burning atmosphere, its familiar blue darkened to an ominous violet. It looked like there were falling straight down into hell.

Chase heard voices and slowly made his way through the bushes and trees. He could finally see Villiers and Tina kneeling by the edge of the pool. The businessman held the model at the back of her neck, pushing her face under water. His usually calm face was distorted with anger.

"I should just kill you. No one will ever know since this station is about to burn up. So, what shall it be?"

"Let me go, you sick bastard!" The young woman cried, gurgling. "Or I will..."

Villiers dumped her again, laughing. "You will what?"

"Let her go, Villiers!" Chase shouted, showing himself. "It's over! I know that you killed Saunders! And I bet you gave Tina the prepared datapad to kill Ashton!"  
"Father, what an honor." Villiers grabbed the model's neck harder, pushing her down again. "You choose the most appropriate moment for this encounter, I might say."

"Let her go, and I'll offer you a fair trial!" Chase shouted, slowly stepping forward. He knew how easy it was for Villiers to break Tina's neck from his position or just drown her, so he had to be careful.

"How generous. But I think it's far easier to kill you." Still smiling, Villiers pulled out a small gun and pointed it at Chase. "And before you ask how I got this: from Saunders himself. He pulled it on me before I stabbed him with that paper knife. Now throw your sword into the pool, or this little bitch dies."

While Chase was frantically searching for a way out, he suddenly saw a movement in the corner of his eye. Did one of the branches of a bush move?

Very slowly, he stepped closer to the pool, angling for a direction away from the movement. He hesitated, then he threw the sword into the water. It sank immediately.

"You can't hope to escape from this," Chase reminded him. "Even if you kill me and Tina, the others will know."

He shrugged. "Why not kill all of them and then take the escape pod? I realized that once you take a life, the others don't matter at all. I'll be sorry for Natalia, because we had some good times, but in the end, it's my survival that's at stake. I haven't come this far to give up now. So tell me, Father, how did you find out about me? I thought everything was perfect."

"It was - almost. But you forgot to wipe your fingerprints from the record scanner before you gave it to Tina," Chase replied. "So, why did you kill Saunders?"

"Because he deserved it! I went up to his rooms that night to talk to him – just talk! He would have never let me that close if the security hadn't been shut off before. I asked him why he still didn't acknowledge me. He shrugged and said that I should be happy to be on the supervisory board. Never in thousand years would he publicly admit to our relation."

"What relation?"

Villiers' face was a mask of cold fury. "That old creep was my father! My mother, Charlotte Villiers, was a maid in his household who was seduced by him and then thrown out. Everyone in his family knew about it, but kept quiet. I'm the only one fit to be his heir! Kelly, that stupid girl, could never live up to it."

"So Kelly is your niece – how could you hurt her? She didn't do anything to you!" 

"She was in the way – she was always in the way!" Villiers shouted, raising his gun again. "And now, dear Father..."

Before he could do anything, however, a figure shot out of the greenery, launching himself at Villiers. The businessmen fired his gun in surprise, missing Chase, but hitting an already fractured glass window. With a loud crack, it started to break.

Chase saw everything as if in slow motion. Ty shoved Villiers away, grabbed Tina and ran over to him. "Hold onto me!" he shouted. 

A second later, a whirlwind of leaves filled the air as everything was sucked out into space, including a screaming Laurent Villiers. Chase grabbed hold of Ty's waist, feeling the pull of the vacuum. Ty had activated his magnetic implants again and managed to stay on his feet. Step by step, they got closer to the lift while trees and bushes were uprooted and flew through the air, nearly hitting them. Smaller branches shot at them like arrows. Chase felt them scrape his skin.  
After what seemed like an eternity, they had reached the lift. Ty pulled them all into it and closed the door. The lift started to travel upwards.

"Thanks," Chase gasped, looking at Ty. The young assassin was still holding Tina who seemed barely conscious. "Did you know about Villiers?"

"I had a bad feeling about him," Ty replied. "I was listening to them arguing when the alarm went off and then decided to stay hidden. I guess Atlantis has a lot to explain. She was his accomplice."

"Seems so. His plan was truly nearly perfect."

The lift stopped, and they stepped off. Chase stumbled again as the station shook. Earth was now filling the complete view of the window, and the ocean below was clearly visible. The station would fall into the water in a few minutes. Chase was just relieved it wouldn't hit any inhabited area.   
"Get into the shuttle with Tina," he ordered Ty. "There isn't enough room for all of us. I'll stay behind."

Ty's face was unreadable as he climbed up the ladder and took the model with him.

Chase looked at the terminal. The countdown showed two minutes. 

So this was how he was going to die – saving others. It was a good death, and maybe, the Light would be merciful upon him, despite his many sins.

The station trembled, and all lights went out. At the same time, the artificial gravitation shut off as well, turning the room upside down. With a painful grunt, Chase was thrown down against the ceiling. The hatch leading to the escape pod was now a hole in the floor next to him.   
As soon as he had caught his breath, Chase shouted, "Kelly, what's happening?"

"We've lost the station's emergency power!" she screamed. "The escape pod still works, but if the blast doors aren't closed, it can't start! You must try to close them manually from the outside!"

With a groan, Chase lifted himself up and started to pulled at the handles left and right to the hatch. They wouldn't budge.

"They're stuck, I can't move them! If we..."

He stopped as someone climbed out of the hatch again. It was Ty. 

The young man looked at him for a moment before he roughly pulled him in for an embrace.

As they parted again, Chase wanted to say something, anything, but all the words in the world seemed to be wrong.

Ty smiled at him, a raw, painful thing to watch, and there was suddenly something in his eyes... something so painfully familiar underneath the artificial green. "We were never good at this kind of thing, weren't we?" he said softly. "So I guess I'll tell you the same thing I did last time we had to say goodbye: Don't you dare to forget me, Chase."

Then he shoved Chase down the hatch.

Numbed by the fall, Chase heard the distant sound of metal scraping over metal above him. The inside of the escape pod was dark and stuffy, but many helping hands grabbed him, pulled him into a seat, and strapped him in. The small escape pod gave a lurch, then it was jettisoned. 

"No, no, no, no," Chase whispered desperately. "Sweet Light, no... this can't be! Not him! Not my Tyrean!"

Through the small rear window, he saw Sanctuary 24 burn.

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this horrible chapter ending, dear readers, I wish you a wonderful Christmas and a happy new year! Regular updates will resume on January 5th. I'll need the holidays to finish writing this story, and if I manage to do so, the remaining chapters can be posted far more quickly. See you next year! ^^


	45. Chapter 19 Part I - The black Bishop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chase felt as if an invisible hand was clutching at his throat, slowing robbing him of any air to breathe as finally, finally everything fell into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update every Tuesday from now on! Next update will be on January 12th.

~ High Cathedral of the Church of Light, Eden City – October 2th, AD 2667 ~

Statement of Tina Ludwig, citizen of the United Nations, regarding the murders of Ashton Arezzo and Carl Saunders, July 25th, 2667:  
"The night Carl was killed, I couldn't sleep. As I went out into the corridor, I caught Laurent Villiers sneaking back into his quarters. I didn't think anything about it, but when we learned that Carl had been killed minutes before, I confronted him. I told him I wanted money to keep my mouth shut. No one knew, but my career isn't doing so well. Villiers replied that he would give me a large part of Carl's money once he got his hands on it, but I must help him cover everything up. Since Protocol Sunflare started, we needed a murderer. Villiers said that he had an idea and gave me the manipulated datapad with Ash's false confession. I should convince Ash to take the blame for my sake. I wasn't happy with the idea – why let my beloved go to prison for this bastard? But then Villiers started to blackmail me in return. He said that he had evidence that I was the one to shove Carl down the stairs back when he had the accident that left him crippled. I... I shoved him, it's the truth, because we were fighting. But I didn't want to hurt him! It was a terrible accident. But Villiers scared the hell out of me with his threat.

When I told Ash about taking the blame, he was horrified. He wanted to storm off and tell everything to Father Holloway, but when he grabbed the datapad with the fake statement from me, he was hit with an electric shock and fell into the pool. The rest happened just how Father Holloway reported. I was too scared to tell him the truth because I knew that Villiers could kill me as well. Even when the Father found out about the manipulated datapad, I could only tell him half of the story. I felt so bad and cowardly afterwards. I guess I'll always blame myself for Ash's death.

Just before we reached Earth, Villiers caught me at the pool. He was so satisfied with getting away unscathed that I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't let the murderer of my beloved Ash walk away just like this! I shouted at him that I would tell Father Holloway everything, even if it cost me my career, my reputation, or even my life. The next moment, the alarm went off, and Villiers attacked me." 

Chase finished rereading Tina's confession and put the datapad back on his desk. In a few minutes, he had an appointment with Cardinal Jonah Quinn, the High Inquisitor, to personally answer some remaining questions about the case Sanctuary 24. He had no idea why it had taken several months, but it made him nervous. 

Chase had met his superior often enough and admired the man for being a just leader. But what if the Cardinal had found some inconsistencies? After returning home, Chase had of course corrected his report according to the events taking place immediately before the station's destruction, and Tina's statement had completed it. 

After that, the young woman had been sent back to the UN to stand trial and had been sentenced to six months in prison. Ironically, this scandal had peaked the interest of the media in such a way that she had been offered various new contracts for modeling after her release. All in all, Tina Ludwig was that kind of person to always fall back on her feet. But Chase had been glad to hear it. She wasn't a bad person at heart, and although she had lied to him time and time again, she had finally found the courage to tell the truth. And that was something even Chase couldn't do.

He took a deep breath and turned away from his desk. His room in the Cathedral's annex still felt tiny and stifling ever since his return a few months ago. He had become far too used to the luxury of the space station in such a short time. In here, he had barely enough room to turn around, and there was no place for commodity or even beauty. Nothing should distract the Inquisitors from their work. For the last months, he had been in here just for sleeping, otherwise busying himself with training, paperwork, and patrol duty. Just as he had sworn to himself, he had done a lot of basic, humble work usually reserved for acolytes. It had taken his mind off the grief – most of the time, at least.

Chase attached his foldable sword to his belt and left.

The seven cardinals ruling the Church of Light and with it, Eden City, had their offices right inside the heart of the Cathedral. Only a small part of the building was accessible to the public while the major part was used for the officials' training and work. 

Although Chase had spent half his life inside these walls, the Cathedral had never looked so cold and unfriendly. Everything was white, without adornment, structured, and purely functional. Only the main prayer room for the followers held something similar to decoration – huge holographic pictures showing the horrors of the First Apocalypse and the salvation of mankind by the Church. 

Although he had went this way a thousand times, something made him stop and look at them as if it was the first time. Three huge, faceless figures, bathed in Light, represented the holy founders of the Church working their miracles: St. Allan cleaned the soiled earth with holy water, and plants grew again. St. Warren called a fresh wind that blew away all poisonous clouds. And St. Tyrean resurrected the dead. After that, they lead the people into their new paradise, Eden City. 

Although the young Father was past believing in such miracles, he knew that those three men, who had in truth been scientists and doctors, had done good things. As always, his gaze rested on the stylized figure of St. Tyrean reaching out to help a resurrected man to his feet. Ever since the fateful events on the station, his grief had intensified whenever he looked at this depiction. The loss was still as fresh and raw as it had been yesterday and not a few months ago.  
With a deep breath, Chase forced himself to continue his way. He stepped through a large door on the other side of the hall after confirming his identity with a retina scan. He almost laughed as he thought of how easily this security measure could be fooled by the Luna Mortis agents. He still hadn't found a way to convince his superior to strengthen the security without telling him how he knew that the present one wasn't sufficient. In his report he hadn't mentioned any involvement of the Luna Mortis.

Beyond the door was a small antechamber with another door. In front of it an uniformed Inquisition candidate was standing watch, his face hidden beneath a white training helmet. Chase remembered very well how tiring and boring this watch duty had been, but it had taught him discipline and endurance.

The young man in front of Cardinal Quinn's door stepped away with a formal greeting before announcing Chase via the com-interface.

"Come in." The door opened, and the young Father stepped in. Cardinal Quinn's office was spacious and brightly lit with elegant and refined furniture. A small holographic projector on a shelf showed the same stylized pictures of the saints as outside in the main hall.

The Cardinal, a tall, wiry man with graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard, stood behind his desk and gestured him to stop closer. His colorless eyes were sharp and clear, not letting him out of sight for a second.

"You are a bit late," he stated, but it didn't sound reprimanding. "What kept you from being on time?"

"Nothing, your Eminence. I'm sorry for having you kept waiting. How can I be of service?"

"I just recently studied your report again during the process of fulfilling Mr. Saunders' last will, and now I'd like you to tell me a few things in your own words again," Quinn answered and stepped around the desk. Chase noticed that he didn't sit down and didn't offer him a place to sit either. "Carl Saunders' murder was an extraordinary issue, and we can't treat it as a routine mission."

"No, it wasn't a routine mission, your Eminence. I tried my best to prevent Mr. Saunders' death, but although I failed, at least I discovered his murderer."  
"Of course. But I think there are some remarkable points we have to discuss. For example: the role of Tyler Derringford in all this." Quinn's sharp eyes seemed to pin him like daggers. "He helped you solve the case, right? You discussed the details of your investigation with him."

Chase straightened up. There it was, one of the key questions he had feared. "Your Eminence, I needed his help at that time, especially his technical expertise. And it was due to his selfless sacrifice that the remaining people aboard the space station survived!"

"A true follower of the Church doesn't need any help from a civilian," the Cardinal reminded him. "Especially one that is not a citizen of the Empire. He could have had his own agenda. And his death doesn't mean anything at all." 

Chase felt a sharp pain lance through his heart, but he forced himself to remain calm. "I don't think it's morally right to put the life of an Empire citizen above that of a UN one. We are all children of the Light, especially someone this brave!"

"My boy, morality is the only one of the three great virtues we are not responsible for. We Inquisitors are keepers of peace and order, and we are allowed to enforce them by all means," the cardinal reminded him almost indulgently, although his gaze remained cool. "You have been one of our best Inquisitors so far: competent, disciplined, loyal. It's not like you to interpret our holy commandments this freely. Therefore I have to know if this mission has somehow compromised your faith in any way. I know that you did a lot of work recently that is beneath your station. Why?"

"I felt it was a good idea to do humble work once in a while, your Eminence, but I assure you that I haven't been compromised. I'm sorry if you got this impression."

Quinn didn't answer. Instead, he broke the unnerving eye contact and went to a little table in the corner of the room. Chase hadn't noticed it earlier, but there was a chess board on it. A few pieces were already gone. Quinn took the remaining black bishop and put him to threaten the white king.

Chase felt as if an invisible hand was clutching at his throat, slowing robbing him of any air to breathe as finally, finally everything fell into place.

To be continued...


	46. Chapter 19 Part II - The black Bishop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No, your Eminence. I won't do the smart thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!

A moment later, Quinn turned toward him again. "I think it would do you indeed some good to continue to train with the candidates for a while and relearn some modesty and discipline. Maybe we promoted you too early, and you lost your head. That is all for now. You can go."

Chase took a deep breath. "Your Eminence, there is something else, if you allow. May I ask if Miss Kelly Saunders will be the new executive director of Saunders Industries?"

The Cardinal raised a brow. "Not that it's any concern of yours, but of course not. That little girl isn't even of legal age yet."

Chase had known it. "Aboard the space station, I tried to visualize the situation with the help of chess pieces," he continued. "The black king was the mysterious mastermind, and the black queen was the murderer."

"A good idea. And your point is?" Quinn seemed to get impatient.

"Well, things turned out very differently. Laurent Villiers was Saunders' murderer and therefore the black queen, and Tina Ludwig was his accomplice – a rook, maybe. They staged Ashton Arezzo's death and placed the blame on him as a pawn sacrifice. But there was also an agent of the Luna Mortis aboard to kill Saunders. I just couldn't find out who hired him. And that would be the black king."

"A Luna Mortis agent, you say?" the Cardinal asked sharply. "Why didn't you write anything of that in your report? Why didn't you arrest him? Who was it?"

"I didn't want to realize the truth." Chase took a few steps toward the Cardinal, clutching the hilt of his sword. "But now I see clearly. There is really just one answer: The Church has Saunders' last will and manages his money. The Church is the one who profits the most from his death. The Church hired the Luna Mortis."

"You dare to accuse us?" Quinn snarled. "I will..."

"You will what? Arrest me? Kill me? It won't change the fact that it's the truth! And you are the black bishop, standing right next to the useless king, the Church, and holding all the real power! I have no idea why you need Saunders' money, and I don't care, but I will stop you! The other cardinals..."

Quinn interrupted him with a derisive laugh. "The other cardinals? You think that they're innocent? We all need Saunders' money, every single department. When they learned that I have Saunders' last will, they begged me to give them a little piece as soon as the old geezer is dead. Weaklings, all of them. They wanted to wait until he died of natural causes, but that could have taken decades."

"But why? Why does the Church need money this badly?" Chase noticed that the Cardinal had put his hand on his sword hilt as well.  
"Why? Do you think that a benevolent theocracy like ours is financing itself? The maintenance of the city's facilities, the cleaning of poisoned areas, the feeding of useless orphans, the interior of my office... even the high taxes we charge are not nearly enough for this," Quinn said. "Cardinal Elena Alvarez in charge of finances could explain this better, but fact is that the Empire of Light is bankrupt. In one or two years, we'll have to turn to the United Nations for help. We asked Saunders, a true follower and the richest man on this continent, for higher donations, but he refused. He said it had to be enough that we'll get a gracious sum after his death. But we couldn't wait that long. His entire fortune can keep us going for a while. And he is not the only one. There are already rumors that Saunders died a horrible death because he wasn't faithful enough. Ever since, the donations from the city's richest have tripled. "

"I guess, morality really can't be found in these halls anymore," Chase murmured. There it was, a full confession. Chase had thought a lot about emotional motifs during his investigation. Each and everyone aboard the station did have one or more of those. In fact, Saunders had been killed because of hate and revenge, and deep down, the desperate love of a son for a father who felt he wasn't worthy enough. But the Church's motif had just been filthy lucre. 

Tyrean had been right about the Church from the beginning. Its dignitaries were nothing but a bunch of lying, arrogant pompous asses who promised salvation to others and thought of nothing but their own benefit. 

"You decided to serve me," the Cardinal reminded him. His voice was calm now, almost fatherly. "You swore loyalty to me. I would have preferred it if this whole agenda would have stayed a secret, but it's too late now. And now I'm giving you a choice, my boy: either you forget everything you've just learned and return to your duty, or I have to eliminate you for the sake of our Church. You found everything out, because you are smarter than the others. You'll have a promising career to look forward to if you stay smart, do what you are told, and keep your mouth shut. I might even think about making you my successor one day. Well?"

Time seemed to stand still. Chase looked into Cardinal Quinn's face and knew that the man would make good on his word and kill him on the spot. Chase knew him to be a brilliant fighter, and he wouldn't stand a chance. 

At the same time, the young Father knew that there was no turning back. He couldn't keep his mouth shut and serve this unjust, corrupt system any longer. For the sake of all people in Eden City, he had to do something. Right here and now.

"No, your Eminence. I won't do the smart thing." Chase's voice was clear and firm. With a swift movement, he drew his sword that unfolded itself within moments to its full length. "You have to kill me."

Quinn's eyes, as hard and cold as glass, darkened. He drew his own weapon with such elegance that made Chase feel clumsy. "I'm sorry if that's your decision, my boy. May the Light be merciful upon your soul."

Then he attacked.

Chase had seen the Cardinal during training sessions and knew how fast he was, but it wasn't enough to be fully prepared. Just like during his fight with Tyrean, he knew that he was hopelessly outgunned. And Quinn didn't have any weaknesses he knew of. As noble and brave as his decision had been, it had also been completely stupid. He would die here without having made a difference. 

All Chase could do was concentrate on his defense, which was hard enough. Step by step, he had to withdraw while the carbide blades met with a singing metal sound. Quinn's eyes, as deadly as his weapon, bore down on him, victory already anticipating. A millisecond too slow in countering, and Chase felt his opponent's weapon slice into the flesh of his upper arm. He almost let go of his sword, barely evading the next strike. 

"Give up, my boy. You're just prolonging your suffering," the Cardinal snarled. "The Light is on my side!"

"The Light is never on the side of those... who misuse their power!" Chase gasped, taking another step back. He was now standing with his back to the shelf. "If I can't defeat you, someone else will! You won't escape justice!"

"And who would that be? No one dares to stand up against me!" Their swords locked against the hilts, they stood face to face. Cardinal Quinn smiled grimly. "Or do you hope for some divine help? One of the long-dead saints, maybe?"

In the corner of his eye, Chase realized that the little holographic projector was right beside him. With one last, desperate move, he took his left hand from the grip of his sword and reached for the device. The Cardinal's sword was just millimeters away from his throat as he finally got hold of the projector. He turned it to maximum output and let it shine right into Quinn's face. 

With a painful grunt, the Cardinal closed his eyes and pulled away. Chase took this one chance offered and shoved his blade right through his opponent's heart. 

Quinn fell on his knees, staring in disbelief up to his former pupil. "No, this... can't be," he gurgled. "The darkness..."

"You know nothing of darkness or Light," Chase whispered, and suddenly, inexplicable pity tugged at his heart. "Nothing at all, or you wouldn't be afraid of them. Rest in peace, your Eminence."

With a last, shuddering breath, the Great Inquisitor shut his eyes and dropped down on the floor.

Chase stood there for a minute, trying to calm his racing heart. Then he looked at the little holographic projector in his hand, showing the faceless, shining figure of St. Tyrean as he brought a man back to life. 

"Thank you," he whispered.

 

To be continued...


	47. Interlude X - Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What happened?" Tyrean asked, or wanted to, but just managed a croaking noise.

~ Secret HQ of the Luna Mortis, somewhere in Eden City – June 30th, AD 2667 ~

Tyrean felt like he was floating. There was nothing to hold him down, nothing that hurt. He tried to open his eyes, but it took him several tries. His vision was sharp as he stared up at a familiar ceiling. The hospital ward at the Luna Mortis headquarters.

So he wasn't dead – although he had no idea how that was possible. The last thing he remembered was looking out the broken windows of the space station as the blue, deadly ocean engulfed its remains. 

Tyrean tried to move, but the feeling of not really being attached to his body prevented him. There was some prickling in his fingers and toes, slowly creeping up his legs and arms.

A door was opened, and someone stepped in.

"What happened?" Tyrean asked, or wanted to, but just managed a croaking noise. 

"You, my friend, were nearly dead," an unfamiliar voice told him. A moment later, a man bent over him. He seemed to be in his early thirties, quite good-looking in a sharp, predatory way. His skin was a bit lighter than Jareen's caramel tone, and his chin-length hair held an ashen color that was almost silvery. His eyes were the strangest Tyrean had ever seen: violet flecked with gold. They were surely augmented.

He smiled. "I'm usually not taking care of things in person, but this time was different. We found you after the space station crashed into the ocean, and brought what was left of you back to our headquarters here in Eden City."

"Why did you save me?" Tyrean asked voicelessly, but the man seemed adept at lip-reading. "Usually, agents aren't rescued. And I didn't fulfill my job."

"Because your work isn't done yet, Tyrean. There are a few things only you can do, and we don't abandon our best agent. Jareen was quite worried, as well, although she thought it might be better to let you go. She didn't want you to suffer anymore." The man reached out and gently touched Tyrean's cheek. The skin prickled, and then he felt the slightly cool touch.

The Technomin obviously wasn't working. Something was wrong here.

"What happened to me? Why would Jareen want to let me die?"

The strange man's smile got a bit crooked. "Well, your head and your upper body with all the vital organs were protected by the flexisteel implants, but the rest was irreparably destroyed. It's a little miracle that you managed to stay alive until we found you – if you believe in such things. I knew that you survived for a reason, and that we had to keep you alive. So I did something I had never planned to do – share a kind of technology with you that I thought would never be needed again. Have you ever wondered how the Luna Mortis had gotten their hands on such advanced augmentation technology? They were based on mine. But they are just the tip of the iceberg, even your former aug-level 3."

"What did you do with me?" Tyrean suddenly felt cold, although he had no idea how. 

The stranger gently caressed Tyrean's face, making him shiver. 

"I gave you a new body. It has real flesh, real blood, a real nervous system, but underneath lies the most sophisticated technology existing on earth. No human eye, no scanner will know the difference. You'll be stronger and faster than anyone else, but you will age and die one day like any other human. Well, maybe a bit later than a human."

"Who... are you?" Finally, Tyrean managed to speak those three words aloud, still creaky and tinny - a voice implant not yet working properly.  
"I'm breaking protocol here, but since I'm something like your father now, you should know: I'm the Grandmaster of the Eden City branch. You can call me Nightshade. Some hundred years ago, a brilliant and completely insane scientist built life-like androids to replace the officials of every government on earth and rule the world. He also replaced his whole body with technology. His plans were foiled, and as the public learned of his plan, all android technology was forbidden, destroyed, and eventually forgotten." Nightshade shrugged. "I was the last of his creations to escape the destruction, and ever since, I've worked for the Luna Mortis to help them create a better world from the shadows. I know that you never thought about this, but we do not just take contracts from anyone. We have a plan. And you're part of it."

Tyrean could only stare up into the man's, no, the artificial creature's eyes. He was dreaming. No, he was dead. He was hallucinating. He was...

"I know that you don't believe a word, and maybe that's for the best. You will take some time to adapt to the new body, but seeing your reaction, it shouldn't take long. You'll be on your new feet in no time. Jareen will come and visit you later. Try not to upset her. And better not tell her I was here. She doesn't know my identity." Then he turned to leave.

"Wait! I still don't understand why you did this!"

Nightshade smiled again. "As I said, there are bigger plans at work. Ever since the First Apocalypse, we saw the rise of a nation built on lies, and there was no one suitable to change it – until now. And you were the only one who could set things in motion."

"And what if I don't want to be part of your bigger plans?" Tyrean shouted. "I'm done being pushed around in everyone's dirty games!"

"Then you learned the most important lesson of all: that the vital part of any game isn't winning or losing - it's deciding whether you want to be a player or a piece. I think you've already decided. Time to act like it."

Then Tyrean was alone again, and his fingers started to twitch.

 

When Jareen came, he had already managed to sit up, looking down at a body without scars. The skin was smooth and soft, and he felt every touch, every surface in a way he hadn't in a long time. It didn't hurt and it wasn't too intense like during the Technomin-withdrawal.

"How do you feel?" Jareen asked, her beautiful face showing worry.

"I feel... alive," Tyrean murmured. It was all he could think of. By now, his voice sounded like himself again. "How do I look?"

Jareen wordlessly gave him a mirror.

Tyrean felt the new skin tighten in his face as he tried to smile and succeeded. "I like it."

To be continued...


	48. Chapter 20 Part I - The Way back to Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door opened, and a tall, slender young man in an expensive dark suit entered. His elegantly styled, dark blonde hair framed a sharp face that that Chase couldn't help finding incredibly attractive.

~ High Cathedral of the Church of Light, Eden City – May 15th, AD 2668 ~

"Cardinal Holloway, I'm glad you called!" Kelly Saunders' face was bright and happy as she appeared on Chase's monitor. "Can you imagine? The new machines my fiance David built are now equipped with Shaziri Industries' software. They can clean the poisoned soil in half the time now and constantly control the radiation level. Saunders Industries expects to make about a thousand square kilometers inhabitable again during the next two years."

"This quickly? That's great news," Chase answered, pleasantly surprised. "But you really don't have to be so formal. I'm just acting captain of a very tattered ship, so to speak."

"Don't be modest, your Eminence," Kelly firmly replied. "Ever since you took charge, things have started to change for the better. I'm sure you'll be nominated for president in the upcoming elections. I didn't think I'd ever see the day that the Empire of Light was turned into a true democracy with real elections. Maybe the glorious future we've been promised might become real."

Chase shook his head. "I'm no politician. I think there will be other candidates much more suited than I am. I'm just glad that Mrs van Hogen had some very useful advise for me during the last months while the other cardinals and I had to restructure everything – and not go bankrupt in the process."

"Veronica has been happy to help you. I think she missed the political circus, so this was her big change to help democratize our antediluvian state." Kelly giggled. "And it was also a wonderful excuse for her to live with me and David in Grandfather's huge house. I'm going to ask her if she wants to stay for good."

"I'm sure she will." During the last months, Chase had seen the old bond between the two women grow stronger and stronger. Kelly, as young and inexperienced as she was, had been grateful for her step-grandmother's moral support while she took up the task of CEO of Saunders Industries the day after she had turned 21. Strangely enough, Natalia Karakova had been one of Kelly's strongest supporters on the supervisory board. By now, the company was back on its feet and formed the backbone of the Church's new land reclamation project.   
Kelly smiled. "Oh, and there's something else I wanted to ask you: will you do us the honor of marrying David and me? We have plans for August." 

"There is nothing I would rather do!" Chase agreed. "I'm happy for both of you. It's a small miracle that David recovered so fast."  
"Yes, it is. When I rescued him from that awful place, I thought he'd die within weeks. But he is a fighter. After the radiation sickness was treated properly, he is almost completely healed. There is just one thing: we won't have any children." Kelly's face betrayed no sadness, however. "So what do you think we decided to do?"

"Adopt?" Chase guessed.

She nodded. "Exactly. After you told me that you were raised in an orphanage, David and I decided to give a girl and a boy a new home in a few years. I'm just glad that you already reformed the way those orphanages are run. It was one of the first things you did, if I remember correctly?"

"It was. And I'll see to it that much more couples will adopt children. With the new land we recover, there will be room for bigger families. I don't... I don't want to see any more kids thrown out a thirteen to fend for themselves on our city's streets."

"It was a horrible law to begin with," Kelly agreed. "Veronica said that it's a typical sign of society breeding its own doom. By now, the kids can stay until they're eighteen and have finished proper education and gotten a job, right?"

"Exactly. And with the newly-cleaned land, we won't have any more orphans whose parents have died from radiation sickness in the future." 

This was one of the few things Chase was truly proud of. Although everyone saw him as a rescuer of some sorts, he still thought that he had just done what had to be done. But in reforming the way the orphanages were run, he had felt like he had been washed clean of a very old sin.

"As I said – don't be so modest, your Eminence! Oh, I have another appointment now. See you next week? You promised to meet us for dinner."

"I'll be there," Chase promised. "And there's a lot of paperwork waiting for me as well. Take care, Kelly!"

As his monitor switched back from video feed to organizing programs, Chase took a deep breath. There was truly a lot they had managed to do in those few months since he had taken over. Maybe he could dare to take some more pride in it.

Just as he had opened half a dozen forms he had to fill in, his intercom buzzed.

"Your Eminence? I'm sorry to disturb you, but you have a visitor." It was Jessica, one of his assistants. "I told him you're not available today, but he insists."

"I can spare a few minutes, Jessica," he replied. "What's the visitor's name and request?"

"A Mr Nate Ry. He says he'd come to talk to you about the orphanage project," Jessica replied.

This was good news. Chase had publicly called for citizens to help with the children's proper care and education - either financially or personally. "Please send him in."

The door opened, and a tall, slender young man in an expensive dark suit entered. His elegantly styled, dark blonde hair framed a sharp face that that Chase couldn't help finding incredibly attractive.

Ever since his return from the mission on the space station, Chase hadn't visited the sinful underworld of Eden City - and doubted he ever would again. Even the thought of it made him think of Tyrean, of that certain night, and with it came the pain, the remorse, and the guilt. Still, he hoped that one day, one of the new laws of this state would make same-sex relationships legal like it was in the United Nations. Even more, he hoped that once the new republic was built, it would join the UN at last.

"Mr Ry, what can I do for you?" Chase asked and gestured toward the visitor's chair. "Please, sit down."

The young man stepped closer, and Chase's eyes were instantly drawn to the slim figure's simple, graceful movements. This kind of instant attraction had happened only once - and he didn't want to think about it. It was almost a year now, but it could have been just yesterday.   
"Your Eminence, thanks for seeing me on such a short notice. But I – my organization, that is - wanted to offer our help." Mr Ry's voice was dark and very pleasant. "Your restructuring of our social system is a good step in the right direction. You see, I was also raised in an orphanage and know... how hard it was."

Chase smiled sadly. "Then you know how important this is. So, how does your organization want to help exactly? If we..."

He was interrupted by some banging noises and Jessica's shrill voice just before the door was thrown open. Two wild-eyed men with guns stormed in, the sign of the Church drawn in blood on their white robes. Chase's brain instantly supplied the information that they were officials – his own men. He recognized them from the training sessions.

"Die, heretic!" one of the shouted. "You can't pervert our faith!"

Then they pointed their guns at Chase and pulled the trigger. 

To be concluded...


	49. Chapter 20 Part II- The Way back to Eden

There was no time to react, no time to evade the bullets. So this was how he died – a martyr for his mission. There were worse ways to die, surely. Chase closed his eyes as he felt the impact – but it was no sharp pain, like he had anticipated, just the dull collision of a heavy body pushing him down on the floor. 

"Stay down," someone whispered, and the heavy weight on his chest was gone. He heard the men shout, more shooting, some thudding noises. A few seconds later, everything was quiet again.

Chase dared to open his eyes and slowly got to his feet. In front of his desk, the two invaders were lying unconscious on the floor. Next to them stood Nate Ry, their weapons in his hands.

"Your security system needs improving," Ry said. "I walked in here without any controls, and these men were working for you. All your plans of a better world will go down the drain if you are killed."

"You're right," Chase gasped. "I hadn't even thought about any malcontent followers of the Church. I thought everyone would welcome the freedom I offered..."

"Some people are scared of freedom," Ry said. "They prefer the devil they know to the saint they don't." He put the guns on the desk, and Chase noticed that there were some bloodied holes in his suit – at the level of his right shoulder and abdomen. 

"You're injured! Sit down, I'll call an ambulance and..."

"No need, it's just a scratch," Ry stopped him. "You better look after our assistant and find some loyal guards to arrest those men. If you interrogate them, you might find out if there are more."

"Those bullets hit you full force!" Chase stepped around the desk and gently pushed the young man into the chair. "You threw yourself into the line of fire to save me! Why?"

Ry smiled thinly. "Because it's my job. My organization offers highly skilled professionals for special services, and you need a bodyguard. So here I am. I'm really not injured because I have protective armor. Otherwise, I would have bled to death already." He pulled at the collar of his shirt to show Chase the small wound at his shoulder. The bullet stuck there, not even a centimeter into the skin. Ry just pulled it out and pressed the cloth of the shirt to it with a soft hiss. "Now go and look after your assistant."

Chase nodded, convinced now that the young man really wasn't gravely injured. Jessica, as it turned out, had been knocked unconscious, and Chase quickly called his men to take her to a hospital and arrest his attackers. Then he returned to his office. This whole ordeal had left him rather shaken.

"Thank you for rescuing me, Mr Ry," he said. "And I guess I really need someone to look after me. My security is lousy because I didn't think myself important enough. My predecessor had a lot of high-tech systems installed, but I thought I didn't need to be afraid of my fellow men."  
"You shouldn't be afraid, just cautious," Ry replied and pulled a card from his pocket. "And if you agree to a contract, I'll come back to start my job. Think about it and then contact us."

"I guess I will," Chase replied with a smile and took the card. It read "Nate Ry. Talus Minor Security". He had never heard of that firm, but so far, he didn't have anything to do with private security firms. He would do some research later. "Goodbye, Mr Ry."

"Goodbye, your Eminence," the young man replied, and there was something definitely sensual in his voice. Chase decided that it was just the adrenaline rush. He looked after the retreating figure for a moment before he sat down at his desk, taking some deep breaths. 

And there he was, not believing in miracles until once again someone had come and saved his life like a guardian angel. This was no coincidence – what if Nate Ry had hired those men to attack him to get the job? But why?

Chase placed the calling card in front of him, looking so intensely at it until the letters started to swim. And suddenly…

Talus Minor...  
Nate Ry...

If he rearranged those letters, the organization's name became Luna Mortis. And the young man's name...

No, it was impossible! He was dead! It coudn't be true!

But what if...

What did he say? "You see, I was also raised in an orphanage and know... how hard it was."

"Since then, I've always hoped that one day, he would walk into my office at the Grand Church. But even if he was wearing a fine suit and was neatly combed, I would know." 

Chase clearly remembered his own words after all this time. And he was too late – again. 

No, not this time!

He jumped up from his desk and ran out of his office and though the hall. He caught the young man in the middle of the church's great hall, on his way out. "Mr Ry, wait!"

He turned around. "Did you forget something, your Eminence?" he asked. 

Chase suddenly realized that two dozen people were present and listening, so he couldn't do what he wanted with all his heart – grab that man in front of him and kiss him breathless.

"I'm just relieved that you're alright," he replied softly, trying hard not to sound too shaken. "And that I'm sorry if I'm a bit slow to notice... important things. Can you... ever forgive me?"

"Of course. I'm glad to have saved your life."

"If that offer of yours... if it still stands, I'd like you to start your new job tomorrow. I really... want you at my side." 

"I'll be there," the young man replied. "I think we a have a lot to discuss – and a lot of time for it."

"Just one last thing: Do you... do you believe it's possible to rebuild burned sanctuaries and hallow them anew?" All of Chase's existence suddenly depended on that answer.

"I'm the wrong man for questions of faith, your Eminence. But if there is anything holy at all in this world, then it became so by being destroyed at least once and deemed worthy to be made whole again. Don't you think?" Tyrean smiled at him for the first time since they had last seen each other. His green-gray eyes glimmered with unspoken promises. 

Chase returned the smile, his heart as light as it had never been before in his life. "I agree."

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> thank you for keeping faith with this story and for all your wonderful comments! I've been working on this ever since I had the first idea way back in 2007, and in between I thought I'd never finish it. But I managed to because of your encouragement which was a great comfort.   
> Sometime this year, I'll try to find a publisher for this story. Please cross your fingers for me!  
> I've also a new story in the pipeline, so you don't have to wait long until I post something new.  
> Once again, thank you for accompanying our heroes and me on this journey!


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